


Where All the Dreamers Go

by sockablock



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-adjacent, Fluff, Gen, In the middle of a huge revamp and ch. 7 is yet to be updated!!, On Hiatus, Team Bonding, Team as Family, a brief and inadvisable stint in threatening (fake) children, baby caleb makes an entrance, did i mention angst already, here comes teenage caleb, its caleb of course theres angst, level 13+ cause i need those good good spells, more tags to come, the mighty nein are bad at communication, things get a little dark, weird planar magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-06-08 03:05:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 35,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15233958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sockablock/pseuds/sockablock
Summary: “He isn’tdead, is he?” Nott asked quickly. “Ishe?”Jester rolled Caleb onto his back and put her ear to his chest. She listened for a moment, then shook her head. “No, no, he’s breathing. I think…I think he might be sleeping.”Beau, who had been growing tenser and tenser as the conversation went on, relaxed slightly. “Is that all, then?” he asked. “Just…just sleeping?”Fjord snapped his fingers. “That must’ve been a Sleep spell,” he said. “Sand is a component, if I remember right. Just slap him, he’ll wake up.”Jester gave Caleb a flick on the forehead. He did not stir.(or: a Dream spell gone awry sends the Mighty Nein to a place they never thought they'd go, to save a friend who never wanted to be saved)(ON TEMPORARY HIATUS as I try to find the plot again)





	1. Hidden in the Sand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which the gang encounters a sorcerer, caleb takes a nap, and Jester gives a everyone a crash course in reality

They breezed through the dungeon as if they had done so a thousand times before.

They managed to avoid all the traps at the main entrance, disposed of the enchanted armaments guarding the halls. They tackled the loose experiments that stalked the corridors, and snagged some loot from some long-dead explorers as they went. By the time that the Mighty Nein reached the final chamber, the casters still had nearly all their spells, Nott hadn’t used a single vial of acid, and Beau and Yasha hadn’t even lost any blood. Together, they quickly disarmed the trapped door and burst into the main lab just in time to see the elven sorcerer give a startled yelp, grab a large handful of scrolls, and bolt towards her teleportation circle.

They instantly fell into formation: Yasha and Beau quickly closed as the rest prepared to strike from a distance. A column of flame careened across the room, and two bolts of eerie, turquoise energy quickly slammed into the sorcerer’s side.

She reeled from the impact, notes scattering and robes flying out behind her, and collapsed onto the ground. She just barely had time to dodge Beau’s staff, but winced in pain as two crossbow bolts embedded themselves into her leg. She hissed out another curse, as sacred fire enveloped her form, and struggled to pull herself forward amid the din, and the flashes, and the screaming of metal. And just as the Nein were about to close in, running towards the glowing circle in the center of this room, the sorcerer gave one last angry cry, looked around frantically, shot out a trembling hand, threw a pinch of salt into the air and targeted the first person she happened to see—

Caleb crumpled like parchment in a storm. His spellbook scattered across the stony floor. His body lay motionless in a heap. And as his friends’ eyes flew wide, turned to stare at him, the sorcerer muttered a few more commands, released another handful of sand, scrambled into the center of the circle, and with a blinding flash of arcane light, was gone.

The Nein were left standing in the middle of an empty lab. The dull flames of the torch sconces flickered blue around them.

Then Fjord said, “Damn,” and lowered his falchion. Saltwater dripped slowly from its blade.

Beau considered the circle in the ground. She nudged one of the runes with her foot. “Should we follow her?” she asked. “It’s still working, we can go.”

“Mind as well,” Caduceus leaned against his staff. “It’s not like we’ve got anything else to do.”

“We should be careful once we go through,” Yasha murmured. “We do not know what is on the other side.”

“Good point,” Fjord nodded, then gestured to the ground. “Let’s get Caleb back up, and step through cautiously, alright?”

Nott crouched down, and poked their wizard with her finger.

“Hey, Caleb,” she said, shaking him lightly. “Up and at it, what’d she cast on you?”

Jester and Caduceus both knelt at his side, and looked slightly awkward when they both reached for his form.

“Here, here, you do it, Cad,” Jester giggled. “I’ll save my spells for fighting.”

Caduceus gave her a smile and nodded. He reached out and rolled Caleb onto his back, then laid his palm against the other man’s chest, and there was a brief flash of pale green as the magic took hold.

Then his ears drooped, slightly. He gave a very small frown.

“It didn’t work?” he said, almost to himself.

“It didn’t _what_?” Nott demanded.

Caduceus blinked twice at the unconscious body. Then he looked up, and cocked his head at the others. “It didn’t work,” he repeated, slightly louder. “He, er…something’s wrong.”

There was a terrible, awful, silence following that.

“Ah,” said Caduceus, leaning back onto his heels. “I should clarify. He isn’t dead.”

“He’s not?” Beau raised her eyebrow. She was now crouching around Caleb too, competing for space between Caduceus and Nott. “What’s wrong, then?” she asked, poking his face. “Is he okay?”

Jester bent down and put an ear to his chest. She listened for a moment, and then shook her head. “No, no,” she said, “he’s…breathing. I think. Actually, I…I think he might be sleeping.”

Yasha loomed over them all and examined Caleb’s body with a critical eye. “Oh,” she said lightly. “Is that all? Is it…the good kind, or…?”

“It had _better_ be the good kind,” Nott said glumly, and smacked Beau’s hand away from Caleb’s chin. “Stop poking him, already.”

Fjord considered this for a moment, then clapped his hands. “I’ve got it!” he declared. “That was a Sleep spell. I’m sure of it, plus sand’s a component, right? We’ve seen this one before, we just gotta slap him to wake him up.”

Jester gave Caleb a flick on the forehead. Aside from a faint hitch in his breath, he definitively did not stir.

Beau tugged her hand free of Nott’s grasp. “Let me at it,” she said, cracking a knuckle. “I got this. I’ll punch him awake.”

“You might kill him,” Caduceus said mildly. “Go easy, alright?”

Nott covered her eyes. “I can’t watch,” she said, turning away. “He wouldn’t want to die like this.”

Beau inhaled. She rubbed her shoulder. Then with all the gleeful force of being helpful, she reeled back and in one fell swoop, smacked Caleb as hard as she could on the arm.

He shifted slightly, and his brow twitched.

And then, nothing. His eyes did not open.

“Well,” said Beau, as panic began to build, “that’s probably not a good sign.”

“What…w—why isn’t he waking up?” Nott shrieked. Her already shrill voice rose another octave. “I thought Sleep was a really simple spell! Shouldn’t it have worn off, from that?”

“It…it _should_ ,” Fjord leaned in closed. “I…I was sure that a simple hit was all it took.”

“Maybe it wasn’t Sleep then,” Jester said. “Maybe this is something we’ve never seen, before?”

“That woman did something _twice_ though,” Caduceus rumbled. “I saw her draw out _two_ handfuls of sand.”

Nott whipped around. “Are you saying there’s a second spell?”

“That might make sense,” Yasha murmured. “What sort of thing might it have been, then?”

“Well, hey, maybe that doesn’t matter!” Beau said quickly. “Yash, you’ve got that sword, right? Whatever it is, you can just dispel it! Then problem solved, we get the wizard back.”

Unfortunately, Yasha shook her head. “I used that ability earlier, on the door. Remember? The very shiny warding?”

“Shit,” Beau muttered. “Yeah, I forgot.”

Fjord made a placating gesture with her hands. “Well, we’ve got two magical powerhouses with us, yeah?” He turned and gave Caduceus and Jester pleading looks. “Any juice left?” he asked.

“I already used mine on the enchanted armor in the hallway,” Caduceus said, but Jester brightened up.

“I still have some slots!” She waved a hand. “I can try.”

Nott gave her an encouraging smile, though it was somewhat tinged with panic. Jester grinned back, semi-nervous, and all eyes were on her as she laid her palm on Caleb’s chest.

When the blue light faded, a second passed. And then another. And then another. Caleb snored gentle, and soft, and unyielding.

Jester sagged. “Whatever this is, it must be too high a level, or something,” she mumbled.

“You did your best,” Beau tried. “It just sucks that we don’t know what it—”

“Aw, shit,” said Fjord, as realization dawned. “Aw, damn, it’s _Dream_.”

“Dream?” Nott echoed. “What? What’s that? What does dream do?”

“Well, I don’t know _exactly,_ ” he admitted, “but I _do_ know that it has the ability to…to give someone visions and mess with their brains while they’re asleep. It’s…actually, it’s pretty nasty. Whatever Caleb’s experiencing in his head, it must be preventin’ him from waking up.”

“What?” Yasha blinked. “There is magic that does that?”

“After everything we’ve seen,” Caduceus rumbled, “why not?”

“Maybe the dream’s so good, he doesn’t wanna wake up, or something?” Fjord rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry, gang, this really isn’t my area of expertise. Caleb would’ve been the one to ask.”

“Do you know how long it lasts, at least? Minutes?” Nott asked.

“Er…no,” Fjord sighed. “It lasts, uh, eight hours.”

“Eight _hours_?” Beau shook her head. “Fuck, but we don’t have that kind of time! That bullshit elf-wizard’s gonna get away!”

“Sorcerer,” said Caduceus.

“Whatever,” Beau rolled her eyes. “My point is that who _knows_ where the fuck she’s gone? If we don’t follow quickly, we’re gonna lose the trail.”

Yasha put a calming hand on her shoulder. “Perhaps,” she said softly, “but again, perhaps not. Jester can scry on her, remember? I believe that if right now, Caleb is stuck like this, we should just rest and wait out this spell. We can go tomorrow, the sorcerer will not expect us, and then, at least, then we will be prepared.”

They all considered this.

“It’s not a _bad_ plan,” Fjord said. “And I’d hesitate to jump through a portal without Caleb.”

“Yeah,” Nott nodded furiously, “I’m not going _anywhere_ without him. If he’s going to sleep, I’ll stay here and guard him.”

“Same here,” Jester volunteered, and Caduceus nodded his agreement.

“Yeah, yeah, alright,” Beau shrugged, “I was just makin’ sure we knew where we stood.” Then she plopped down onto the ground and patted the floor. “This mean’s we’re settling in for a long night, yeah? This stone slab is mine, but you’re all welcome to share.”

Yasha gave her a solemn nod. “I will go guard the door,” she said, and Fjord smirked at Beau as she wandered away.

Beau leaned across the floor. She punched him in the arm, and for a second, it felt as if everything were normal.

\-------------------------------

 Nott and Jester were on watch, and in the darkness both their eyes had a glow.

“I’m worried about him,” Jester sighed, to the faint background noise of bubbling beakers and soft rustling. “What happens if the eight hours pass, and he still does not wake up?”

“I don’t know,” Nott murmured. “I’m worried about him too, but I just…I don’t know what to _do_. It’s not like we’re experts in arcane magic, I mean, I only know little things like sending messages and stuff. This is _big_ magic. Gods, I wish there was a way we could just go into his brain and shake him awake, or something.”

There was a pause, following this. Jester had fallen strangely silent. Nott raised an eyebrow.

“We, ah, we _can’t_ do something like that, right? Jester? That’s…that’s not a thing, is it?”

The cleric turned very slowly towards Nott, her eyes alight with a sudden fervor.

“Ask me again in the morning,” she whispered urgently. “I…I’ll know for certain, then. I just hope…gods, I hope we won’t need it.”

Nott glanced over her shoulder, towards where—nestled between Yasha and Frumpkin, still slowly breathing, barely moving—was Caleb’s silent, slumbering form.

Strangely, his expression was the most peaceful she’d ever seen.

She turned back to Jester and nodded.

“I hope so too,” she said.

\-------------------------------

By morning, nothing had changed.

“But _why_?” Beau groaned, yanking at her robe in frustration. “Gods almighty, what the _fuck_?”

“I don’t…fuck, I don’t know,” Fjord said. He was crouched by Caleb’s side, watching Yasha dejectedly sheathe her sword. “Nothing at all?” he asked, knowing the answer. “The magic didn’t go away?”

She shook her head, and the blade vanished with a faint _clink_. “Actually, and this is rather strange, but…from what I can tell, there is _no_ magic that needs dispelling.”

“No _magic_?” Nott frowned. She was also on the ground. “But if there’s no magic, then what’s _happening_?”

“Maybe it’s like Mister Fjord said,” Caduceus murmured. “Maybe the initial spell is what put him to sleep, but now he refuses to wake up, himself.”

“Er…did I say that?”

Caduceus shrugged. “That’s what I heard. You said it yourself, it might be a very good dream. And dreams can be very powerful things.”

They all fell silent, and considered this for a moment. They watched Caleb breathe; there wasn’t much else to see.

And then, Jester tapped her chin. She tilted her head, and the charms on her horns swung gently with the movement.

“I think…” she said slowly, and the group turned to face her, “I think…that Cad is right. The magic is what started this, but something else made it stick. Maybe, whatever this dream is, whatever it’s showing him, after the spell faded, Caleb liked it so much, that _he_ kept it going.”

“Is that…can you _do_ that?” Beau asked. “Unconscious casting, or whatever?”

“I don’t see why not,” Jester shrugged. “And maybe he’s not even using magic, maybe it’s just his own mind, or something. I’m sorry, you guys, I really don’t know, I know I’m just guessing—”

“It’s alright,” Fjord said instantly, trying for comfort. “We’ll figure it out. We always do.”

Yasha gave Jester a pat on the hand.

In the interim, Beau had also crouched down. She peered in closely at Caleb’s face, and gave a sigh. “I don’t disagree with what you said, Jes, that there’s definitely something going on in his head.” She briefly glanced up and tried for a smile. “That was some smart shit, you know? _My_ question now, though, is what are we supposed to do about it? If dispelling didn’t work, how can we be sure that Caleb’s using any magic. And how do we know whether or not he’s the source?  What if that crazy wizard—”

“Sorcerer—”

“—not now, Cad. Anyway, what if _she’s_ the one doing this? There are too many unknowns, and the only thing that we _do_ know is Caleb’s out cold, and the woman who caused this already fucked off hours ago.”

Nott turned towards Jester. “Didn’t...didn’t you say something about an idea last night?” she murmured. “Is that.. _.is_ there something you know that might fix this.”

Jester bit her lip and hesitated. She seemed to consider her answer for a moment, before finally sighing and pointing at Caleb’s head. “Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, I…I think I know what we need to do. I think we need to wake him up, from the inside. And I think I know how to get us in there.”

Everybody stared at her. For a moment, that was all they could do.

“Er…what do you mean, Jester?” asked Yasha, finally breaking the silence.

“ _In_ there?” Fjord gaped. “You mean like... _in_ there, in there?”

“And _how_?” Nott added.

Jester reached for her holy symbol, held out her metal emblem of the Traveler. “I…I have a spell,” she breathed in. “It’s…I only recently learned it, but it’s called Planeshift. It allows me, and the people I take with me, to, ah…to travel across planes of reality. We can use it to visit the Plane of Dreams.”

Everyone fell quiet again. A few lonely beakers burbled in the background.

And then Caduceus took a seat on the ground. After a second, the rest followed suit.

“Alright,” the firbolg said, very calmly. “Okay. Do you mind explaining this, from the top?”

“And define Plane of Dreams?” Nott asked. “What is that, what does that mean?”

Jester also sat down, and rummaged through the haversack for her sketchbook and some charcoal. Then she spread the tome across the stone floor, and flattened the pages for everyone to see. They craned their necks and watched as she carefully drew a large circle right the middle of the spread.

“This is where we are,” she said, poking the center with the end of her charcoal. “This is the Prime Material Plane, where we live. It’s our…our universe, I guess.”

Then she drew a bunch of smaller circles, all floating around the bigger one.

“These are alternate realities. They’re…mirrors of our world, connected to us, and a part of us, but not the same as us. Some of them are fueled by elemental energies—” and here she outlined some flames around one, “—and others are filled with strange beings and societies and worlds. The gods live on one of them, that’s the Celestial Plane. There’s also the Feywild, where Frumpkin is from.”

Then she drew a few tiny circles, and attached them to the center with a broad, solid stroke.

 

“And then there are others,” she said softly, “other realities, that exist as branches of our own world, created from our thoughts and hopes and wishes. And dreams,” she added, looking up with a nod. “That’s the one we’re gonna want. The backdoor too all of reality. Where all the dreamers go, an endless sea of fantasy and wonder, always shifting, always changing, always growing, like our minds do. And Caleb should be in there, right now, lost in his own little world.”

She stared intently at her friend’s faces. Their expressions ranged from enchanted, to fascinated, to bewildered, to utterly terrified.

“If we can’t wake him up from out here,” she said gently, “our only choice is to do it from in there.”

The rest took a moment to consider this. They looked at the little circles on the paper, easy and plain and simple, in theory.

Fjord was the first to speak, after rubbing his eyes and remembering how to breathe. “Jester,” he asked, “Jester… _how_ do you know all that?”

She shrugged. “The Traveler, actually,” she said. “He’s, you know, the _Traveler_ , so he’s been to a lot of different places. He tells me some pretty good stories, about all of them.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Beau blinked. “Gods above, that was…wow.”

“Thanks,” Jester grinned. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Hang…hang on though,” Yasha said, “even if we…even if we _did_ end up going into his head, how are we supposed to find him? Are there not hundreds and thousands of living things in the world? How are we supposed to locate Caleb, if they are also on this plane when they dream?”

“I can specify when I cast the spell,” Jester said. “It should take us right into his own little dream world.”

“How convenient,” Caduceus rumbled.

“Yep!” Jester beamed. “It really is a cool spell.”

“But…but is that _it_?” Nott asked. “Do you just touch his forehead and cast the spell and we all just pop on in there? And…and…once we see him, what are supposed to say? ‘Hey, Caleb, we’re here to get you, time to wake up now, come on and follow us?’ And will he even listen to us? What are we supposed to expect?”

“That does seem a bit…easy,” Fjord said. “Not that I wouldn’t love an easy mission, for once.”

Jester rubbed her chin in thought. “We- _ell,_ I’m not… _totally_ sure what we’ll see in there,” she admitted. “There’s…well, it’s a whole entire plane, there _definitely_ will be a lot of stuff in there.”

“Wait, wait do you mean, _a_ lot?” Beau asked, “you mean—”

“Stuff _lives_ in there?” Nott yelped. “You mean we’re going to have to _fight_ the, the, the denizens, or whatever?”

“Er…possibly,” Jester said a little sheepishly. “Maybe? And also, um, since we will be physically teleporting in there, maybe stuff there is physically capable of hurting us—but I don’t know for sure!” she added quickly. “The Traveler is not _always_ the best storyteller.”

“Oh gods,” sighed Nott. “Of course. Of course there’s terrible monsters and creepy things and figments of Caleb’s own brain that are going to try and eat _our_ brains and drink our, our souls, or something—"

“Is that really the _only_ way to get Caleb back?” Beau asked. “Are we _sure_?”

“We could keep waiting and see,” Jester said, “but at this point I don’t know if he’ll wake up by himself.”

“It has been almost half a day,” Caduceus noted. “With no progress on this end.”

“—icky ghosts and awful spirits and psychic monsters trying to kill us—”

“But given our limited options, we will just have to face them,” Yasha said.

“It would be rude of us to just leave him,” Caduceus added.

“I _know_ ,” Nott grumbled, snapping up at them immediately. “Yeah, yeah, I _know_ , of _course_ we we’ll save him, who do you take me for? I’m just not happy about it.”

Jester clapped her hands together. Her holy symbol jingled against her belt. “Is that it, then?” she asked. “Are we decided? Are we going in?”

“Wait, wait,” Fjord raised his palms. “Hang on, what about _Caleb_? I mean, uh, _meat_ -Caleb, not spirit-Caleb. Is it…safe? We’re in a weird lab, can we just…leave his body here like that?”

They considered this for a moment.

“Well,” said Caduceus, eventually, “we _did_ kill everything in the hallways. Those lost experiments be mulch, by now.”

“And I doubt the sorcerer will return, after the scare we gave her,” Yasha added. “She probably will have found somewhere else to hide.”

“This also shouldn’t take too long,” Jester added. “I’m sure we’ll be in and out, in no time.”

“Let’s at least lock the door,” Fjord sighed, and gave Nott a pointed look. She huffed, stood up, and made her way across the room. After a few minutes of mild swearing, she turned around and gave a thumbs-up.

“We’re locked in,” she said. “For better or for worse.”

“Nice,” said Jester, as Nott returned. “Alright, then. Are we ready?”

Fjord, Caduceus, and Yasha nodded. Nott sat down, and did so as well.

They all turned to Beau.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she said slowly, “yeah, I am, but, er…you guys should probably know that, I dunno, I get the feeling that there might be some pretty gnarly stuff going on in there.”

“Well, _yeah_ ,” said Fjord. “Otherwise he would’ve woken up, right?”

“Right, right,” Beau agreed, “but…just be prepared, alright? I know we all know that his past is, uh, it’s kind of fucked up, yeah? But, like, without going into the nasty details, it’s…it’s _really_ fucked up. If the things in there can hurt us, we need to be prepared.”

“I will agree with us,” Yasha nodded. “It is best to be on guard at all times.”

“I can change my appearance and hide,” Caduceus volunteered. “If…if that kind of thing is necessary on this wild plane of yours, Jester.”

She shrugged, which was alarming given the circumstances. “Maybe?” she tried. “Like I said, I don’t know. It could be anything, it’s a plane of _dreams_. Now, let’s go!” She stuck out her hands. “Time’s a-wasting! We’ve got a mission! Ready to go into Caleb’s head?”

They all exchanged glances. Then Ford took her left hand, and Beau took his. The others joined in until they all formed a broken circle, and then Jester stretched out her free palm and stuck it on Caleb’s forehead and yelled, “Alright, fucker! Open wide!”

There was a blinding flash of icy blue light.

And then the chamber was empty, a lone figure on the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh BOY i cannot wait to get to, at to actually write what happens next. This fic has spent a long time swimming around in my head, and I was going to try and get through way more of "Something New" before even starting it but I decided I really missed writing canon-adjacent works, so here we are! (also i can never write one thing at a time, but that is neither here nor there). I really hope y'all stick around for this story, as plot and character relationships and delicious backstory angst and so much more are just around the bend!
> 
> In the meantime, comments and kudos keep me going, and if you ever want to talk, or shout at me about critical role, hit me up [@sockablock](https://www.sockablock.tumblr.com) on Tumblr! 
> 
> Things that might be handy:  
> [Planeshift](https://roll20.net/compendium/dnd5e/Plane%20Shift#content)  
> [Dream](https://roll20.net/compendium/dnd5e/Dream#content)  
> [The Plane of Dreams](http://www.5esrd.com/gamemastering/the-planes-of-existence/3rd-party-planar-information/plane-of-dreams/)
> 
> until next time! <333333333


	2. A Cradle Full of Tulips

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! long time no see, huh?  
> Welcome to chapter 2, featuring 7k of: farming season, stranger danger, parenting 101, dreams, and late-night barn conversations

Beau awoke, face-down on the ground.

She groaned, and rolled over onto her back, a tried to take a deep breath. When she stretched, her shoulder bumped into something wooden, and after a moment, she realized that it was her staff. Then she rubbed her face, groaned again, and opened her eyes.

Two rows of razor-sharp fangs hung inches above her face.

“Oh, _fuck_!” she shouted, and instinctively jerked upwards, slamming her forehead into Nott’s mouth. Both immediately reared back, swearing from the pain.  

 “Ow!” Nott screeched, rubbing her jaw. “Ow, what was _that_ for?”

“No, what was _that_ for?” Beau snapped. “Gods above, why would you _do_ that?”

The goblin shot her a half-hearted glare. “Good morning to you, too,” she grumbled. “Excuse _me_ for checking if you were alive.”

Beau managed to get to her feet. “Did you have to get so _close_ , th—”

And then she paused. She looked around.

Here was a lush, vibrant green meadow, nothing but clear, serene skies above. White and gold wildflowers bloomed around them, then a sparrow flew by, chirping a bright song. A quiet breeze slowly trailed past, brushing softly against their faces, twirling under sunlight before fading with a sigh.

Beau stared at Nott.

“Is _this_ … _it_?” she asked.

“You were the last one to get up,” Nott said instead. “The others are already over there.”

“Over where?”

A knobby green finger extended past Beau to a wide series of gorgeous, rolling hills. Four figures stood at the top of the tallest one.

“Is this the right place?” Beau tried again. “Are we in…in Dreamland, or whatever?”

But Nott only gave her a pained expression. “Maybe? Probably?” Then she quickly added, “Look, I don’t know for sure, okay? Jester…Jester will explain. Let’s just, uh, let’s just go.”

Beau sighed. She picked up her staff. “Alright, alright, alright. Lead the way.”

\-------------------------------

“Are you sure that _this_ is the Plane of Dreams?” Fjord asked, just as Beau and Nott came into view.

Down below, the landscape dipped into an enormous valley bursting with color. Farmlands blanketed the ground in a vibrant patchwork quilt of wheat and barley and cornstalks, an autumnal medley waving in the wind. Orchards draped the east with their leaves, sharp reds and soft oranges, warm browns and pale gold. To the north, an endless sea of pines and spruces cooled the plains with light green and turquoise.

And right in the center of this display was a village. They couldn’t make out many details from this distance, but they could see varied rooftops, some thatch, others clay and still others wood. A few wisps of smoke curled up from the chimneys.

It was quiet, and beautiful, and utterly inane.

“I thought there would be, like, purple skies and orange grass and, and unicorns everywhere,” Jester said glumly. “I didn’t think it would be this _boring_.”

“It looks so real,” Caduceus murmured. “Like we’re seeing somewhere else in the world.”

“We didn’t accidentally teleport to, like…a different city, did we?” Fjord arched his eyebrow at Jester. “You’re confident that this is the right place?”

“I specifically asked the Traveler to send us into Caleb’s dream,” she shrugged. “He promised he would, and I believe him.”

“Then all we can do is hope,” Yasha said. “Unless, er…can you cast it again?”

Jester shook her head. “Sorry. That was one of my most powerful spells, so I’ll need to rest for a while, first. Though, ah…I don’t see Caleb anywhere around here. So…even if I tried to cast it again, I’m not sure I’d be able to target it right.”

“So, we’re stuck here,” mumbled Fjord.

“Wherever here _is_ ,” added Nott.

Beau glanced down at the village, then considered the low silhouette on the horizon. It almost looked like a mountain range, though there was something else too, some other kind of outline, almost like roofs, storied buildings, towers and halls and a castle in center…

“I think…” she said slowly, “...guys, I think we’re in the _Empire_.”

They all turned to stare at her.

“What?” Jester asked. Then she added, “Oh, I’m glad you’re awake, Beau. But wait, _what_? What do you mean?”

“Are you saying we’re _home_?” Nott echoed.

Beau pointed toward the horizon. “I’m pretty sure those are the Dunrock Mountains,” she said. “ _Almost_ certain, anyways. I’ve stared at those stupid formations a million times before in lectures. And look at those buildings. If I’m right, that’s…that’s _Rexxentrum._ Which would mean that we’re in northern Wildemount.”

They considered this. Jester’s shoulders slumped.

“Aw, man,” she said. “Aw, I totally thought I did it right, though.”

Fjord gave her a small smile. “It’s alright,” he said. “Hey, I’m impressed that you even took us _this_ far, to, uh, to wherever this is. Er…guys, we should probably figure out where this is.”

“Town might be a good place to start,” Caduceus suggested, gesturing to the village nestled in the valley. ‘Why don’t we walk down there?”

“Wait, wait a second,” Nott looked around frantically. “Hang on, if we’re still in the Empire, does that mean we left Caleb back in the lab? All _alone_? With _nobody_ around to _protect_ him?”

Beau swore. “Uh-oh.”

“Yeah, _right_!” Nott screeched. She whirled around to gape at Jester. “Is he here? Do you know?”

She bit her lip. “Um…no, sorry,” she admitted. “I, um…I think figuring out where we are is a good idea. And, um, maybe we should do it fast.”

“Right,” Fjord nodded firmly. “Don’t worry,” he added quickly to Nott. “Caleb’s one of us. We’re not leaving him behind.”

“Good,” she jabbed a finger at the valley. “The sooner the better, then. Come on. We’ve got a town to crash.”

\-------------------------------

It was actually almost sundown by the time they made it around the outer fields and onto the path into the village proper. Along the way, they passed some farmers in the middle of cutting grain and loading it into a large wagon. Jester waved cheerfully at them, and they hesitantly raised their hands in response.

“Why are they being so weird?” she whispered, leaning close to the others as they walked on. “Why were they so shy?”

“Well,” said Beau, “Maybe shy’s not the word. And anyways, it’s probably ‘cause you look insane.”

Jester raised an eyebrow. “ _Excuse_ me?”

“Sorry, sorry,” she waved a hand. “I just meant, uh, well, these people’ve probably never seen a tiefling, before. They probably don’t know what to make of you.”

“They’re rustic,” Caduceus nodded, giving Jester’s head a pat. “Don’t worry, it’s not your fault.”

“I know their type,” Fjord grumbled. I hate that type.”

Nott pulled her hood over her head. “Tell me about it,” she muttered. “I hope we won’t be here long.”

“This _does_ make me think my theory’s right, though,” Beau said, tilting her head. ‘We _must_ be in the north. People around here are always like this.”

“Then does that mean you should do the talking?” Yasha raised an eyebrow at Beau. “You are the one they would trust most, yes?”

Beau stopped in her tracks. The rest had to turn around to face her.

“Fuck,” she said. “ _Damn_.”

“Maybe it won’t come to that,” Fjord offered. “After, all we’re not plannin’ on staying long.”

“Plus, I’m certain that if they gave me a chance, I could charm their pants off,” Jester added.

“And I could disguise myself as a peasant,” Caduceus said.

“I’ve got spells ready,” Nott shrugged, “but I’ll hang back, just in case.”

Mollified by this, Beau sighed and rejoined the others as they headed further down. Eventually, they made it to a short wooden fence that marked the end of the southern farmlands and hit a wide, cobbled street. A variety of stone and wooden buildings sat around them, one a general store, another whose clangs and waves of smoke signaled that it was the town’s smithy. This was a surprising sign of wealth for the area, especially given how the other homes looked. Most were simple one-story structures, like where the townsfolk lived. A few were roaming the streets now, returning home after a day in the fields or wrangling their children back indoors, before nightfall. A few kids ran past the Nein’s legs, laughing and giggling and shouting at one another, as their exasperated father tried to catch up.

It was like a scene straight out of a storybook. In fact the only downside was that, as they continued on, many of the townsfolk stopped to stare at the Nein. Occasionally, a few would lean towards each other, and whisper.

“At least it isn’t _malicious_ ,” Beau muttered. “They’re just confused by us, is all.”

“I’m confused by _them_ ,” Nott grumbled. “Haven’t they ever heard of manner?”

“Let’s just try to find an inn,” Fjord suggested. “They could be more open to conversation there, or at least we could buy someone a drink, to get ‘em to talk.”

Beau glanced around, and her gaze fell on a two-story building with a wide chimney a few roofs down. Two signs were hanging above the door, one in a language that she couldn’t read, the other was smaller, proclaimed in faded script: _The Weathered Flagon_.

 

“There,” she said, pointing. ‘That’s the most tavern-y name I’ve ever heard.”

“Maybe they'll have something that tastes good," Caduceus added.

Nott kicked a pebble sullenly as they headed over. “I hate that we ended up somewhere random and weird,” she groused, then quickly added, “No offense, Jester.”

Jester sighed. “It’s alright, I’m annoyed too. I was _sure_ that I’d done everything right.”

“Maybe the Traveller got confused,” Beau suggested. “Maybe he thought you’d said—"

She was cut off, as a small shape hurtled into her side and sent the both of them stumbling in surprise. The rest of the group all stopped, taken aback, and watched Beau shake her head, then shake her fist, at a rather young-looking child.

“Watch it,” she grumbled. “People are walkin’ here.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he squeaked, and backed up. “Sorry, I wasn’t…”

He trailed off. It almost seemed as if he’d forgotten how to speak, because now his jaw was slack, his eyes wide.

“ _Tolle_ ,” he breathed, and looked intensely at all their faces. “Wow, wow, you all look so _weird_!”

The Nein exchanged glances. Beau crossed her arms. Caduceus stepped forward, then crouched down before the child.

“Really?” he asked softly.

“You are covered in _fur_ ,” the boy said. “And your ears are so big, do they hurt? Are they—” he blinked, reached out as if to touch them, “—are they _real_?”

Everyone exchanged looks again.

“I’m fairly certain,” Caduceus tried. “Are yours?”

“I think so?” the boy said. He ran a hand across his own head. “What a funny question, I have never met anything like you, before.”

Caduceus chuckled. “So I’ve been told. You don’t get around much, do you?”

“ _Nein_ , not at all!” The little boy grinned. “Say, since you are so strange, what _are_ you? Are you magic? Are you a fairy, or a demon, or a monster from the woods?”

Caduceus snorted. His ears twitched slightly. “I’d prefer firbolg, if it’s all the same to you. But, ah…sure. Sure, I’m magical.”

The little boy looked like he might vibrate out of his skin. His eyes were alight with a bonfire of excitement. “ _Really_?” he gasped. “Really and truly? How much magic? Is it a lot? Is it something you can teach me?”

Caduceus opened his mouth to answer, but was pushed aside as Jester barrelled forward. Her grin was almost as enthusiastic as the child’s, her fingers wiggling and her arms outstretched.

“Hey, hey, hey, watch this!” She crouched down and pointed to her eyes. “Watch, I’m going to turn them pin—”

“Okay, okay, hang on,” Beau said, lightly tapping Jester before she could bow this child’s mind. “Just…just wait a second, alright? Kid, who are you? Where are your _parents_?”

“That’s right,” Nott said, from behind Yasha’s legs. “You shouldn’t be wandering off like this, and you _especially_ shouldn’t talk to strangers.”

“Yeah,” said Fjord, giving a curt nod. “What if were going to hurt you? What if we were dangerous?”

The little boy laughed, and shook his head. “But you are not _dangerous_ , _ja_? You wouldn’t hurt me, you are magic people! Besides, if I tell you my name, we will not be strangers, and then we can be friends!” He stuck out a hand and beamed up at them, wide.

“My name is Bren! It is good to meet you!”

All of them froze.

For a second, nobody moved.

They just stared at this boy, this skinny little twig, palm outstretched and blinking back at them, expectantly. He was wearing a dusty tunic, tied at the waist, and had a messy mop of reddish hair. There were smudges on his face that could have been mud, or could have been freckles, and he was missing a few teeth, which was obvious against his smile.

His eyes were a bright and piercing blue. They glittered in the dusk, and looked younger than they should have.

In the silence that followed, the cart that they’d seen earlier in the fields rolled on down the street, then vanished.

And as the rest of the group slowly turned inward in shock, Jester quickly slapped on a smile and gingerly took the boy’s tiny fingers and said in a voice that was only _slightly_ strained, “It is very nice to meet you, Bren. What, um, what is your last name?”

“Ermendrud,” he smiled. “My middle name is Aldric.”

There was a sharp inhale from the back. Someone whispered: _shit, was that his name? I think it wa—_

Jester ignored this. She shook his hand. “What a good name that is,” she declared. “Mine is Jester. Jester Lavore.”

He beamed at her as his arm waved up and down. “You are very weird, Frau,” he said, and then looked up excitedly at the others. “Who are all of you?” he asked.

“I’m Fjord, it’s, er…it’s nice to meet you.”

“I am Yasha.”

“Beauregard. But call me Beau.”

“Caduceus Clay. It’s a pleasure.”

From behind Yasha, there came some frantic murmuring. Then a halfling woman stepped out into the light, and a shrill voice responded, “I’m Nott. It’s nice to meet you, C-Bren.”

The boy looked her over, taking in her short stature, and thick hair. “Hey, you are not so strange!” he laughed. “I’ve met a halfling once before, you know.”

“I did not know that,” said Nott, who was having a bit of trouble keeping it together. “What an interesting thing to know.”

“How old are you?” Jester asked, and the boy turned back to her. “Are you old enough to be wandering around on your own?”

“Oh, my Mama and Papa do not mind,” he grinned. “Everybody here is super nice, they know it’s okay. I’m eight,” he added, holding up eight fingers. “Eight years and six months and nineteen days.”

“That’s very specific,” said Yasha. “How do you know that?”

“I counted it.” He shrugged, as if this were the simplest thing in the world. Then he suddenly gasped and added, “Hey, would you like to meet my parents? I am sure they would love to see you, new people! They are also very interested in magic, and you all look like things right from a story!”

“Not things,” Jester said, quickly. “We are people too, you know.”

“Right, right, sorry,” the boy said, though he didn’t really seem to completely understand. “So, do you want to come?” he pressed. “It will be dinner soon, maybe you are hungry?”

The Nein all looked at one another. They considered the purpling sky, the people walking around. They considered the ground, and then buildings, and then this boy.

“Alright,” Fjord nodded. “Yeah, why not? Lead the way.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Caduceus added.

Little Caleb— _Bren_ —again beamed his grin. “Awesome!” he declared, and grabbed the nearest person, Jester, by the arm. “Come on, come on, let’s go!” he said. “Oh, this is going to be so cool!”

And then he tugged on her sleeve again, and ushered along by this tiny version of their friend, the Mighty Nein set off down the path, hurrying to keep up with their guide. He led them past these more crowded center streets, and then split off to the side, where the cottages seemed sparser, more widely-spaced with small gardens at the side. One had dog tethered to a pole, another had a donkey just standing by the door.

“—and that’s Oma Müller’s house,” Bren said, as he walked and rattled off a list of fun-facts. He still had a small fist clutching the edge of Jester’s sleeve, and he was a rather fast walker for someone so short.

“—any children,” he continued, “or any grandchildren. But she has a really cool donkey and a lot of tomatoes. And that’s Elias and Klara’s house, they have a sheep that smells really bad but Elias makes good bread, and then that over there is where Jacob lives, he is waiting for his lover to come home from the war, Mama says, but I don’t know what that means and also Papa says the war’s been over for many years now, and that’s—”

“Bren,” Nott whispered, to the rest of the Nein following at about five feet back. “That’s _exactly_ what Caleb’s old name was.

“They have the same hair and eyes,” Beau muttered. “And the same stupid accent, but this kid’s is much stronger.”

“His voice is so…high,” Yasha mumbled. “He is very talkative.”

“I’m starting to think that maybe Jester’s spell worked,” Caduceus said.

“But I still fell like something’s…off,” Fjord murmured. “For a dream, I mean, this is…crazily life-like, isn’t it? It’s like we’re _right_ here, in the past, talking to a nine-year-old Caleb. Er, Bren. And if _this_ is all that’s happening in his brain, then why is he having such a hard time wakin’ up? Don’t people dream about their childhoods all the time? What’s so special about all th—”

“We’re here!” Bren declared.

They all almost rammed into Jester and this child, but managed to just pull short before impact. Then they looked up, and were met with a small wooden cottage, the last on the street before the village gave way to a vast sea of golden fields. This house, too, had a fenced-off garden, and few meters away was a rusty water-pump. Dozens and dozens of tiny flowers bloomed in the grass around them, and next to the cottage door was a wooden box, spilling over with red and white tulips. Upon looking closer, the group realized that it was actually an old cradle. A faint light came from inside this building, and wisps of smoke escaped up from the roof, wafting out of the mouth of a thin chimney.

“ _Willkommen_ ,” Bren grinned, “or ‘welcome,’ for you out-of-place people. Come on!”

He scurried to the door and threw it open without hesitation, and the group had a brief moment of shock, then panic and— _wait a second, we’re random adults, this is a kid’s house_ —before two figures appeared in the doorway.

“Mama, Papa,” Bren gestured at the group, “these are my newest friends!”

The Nein stared. It was hard not to.

The woman standing before them looked just like Bren, with the same rounded nose and sharp blue eyes. Her own wild mane of russet hair was pulled back into a bun, and freckles lined her face and arms. The man next to her had dark hair and a beard, was a few inches shorter, and had his son’s chin. He wore an apron over his clothes, onto which he wiped his hands, before blinking a few times and waving cautiously at the group.

“Er…” He blinked. He glanced between his son, and the strangers at his door. “Er, _bitte,_ pardon me, but who _are_ you?”

“They’re my _friends_ ,” Bren repeated, and pulled on his father’s sleeve. “I asked them to come to dinner. They’re magic! Can they stay? Please?”

“ _Spatz_ ,” his mother sighed, “did you drag these poor people all the way out here because you thought that they were _magic_?” She turned to the Nein and shook her head apologetically. “I am so sorry,” she said, “our son is very…he gets excited about the strange and new, ah…no offense meant.” She dipped her head. “We do not get many individuals so…colorful as yourselves in our small village, so you can understand his confusion.”

“That’s alright,” said Fjord, who was also feeling mildly overwhelmed. “We, uh, we understand. You’re right though, we are new in town, and mostly we were just, uh…just lookin’ for s place to stay. Maybe for some more information, about the area?”

“Though we _are_ actually magic,” Jester added. “Really.”

Bren’s father raised an eyebrow. “Is that so? Truly?”

Jester grinned. “Of course!”

And then, before anybody less impulsive could intervene, she reached into her pouch and yanked out a match and struck a tiny flame to life. The family watched in astonishment as she waved her hand, and suddenly the fire brightened, and turned purple.

“See?” she giggled. “Magic!”

Bren’s jaw, for the second time that evening, went slack. He yanked urgently on his father’s sleeve. “Look!” he cried. “See, see, I _told_ you! I _told_ you they were magic! Please can they stay? Please? You _promised_ you would help me learn, you _promised_.”

His parents stared, still shocked, at their son, and then to the violet flame in Jester’s hands. They re-evaluated the group with eyes, frozen wide.

“You…you all _are_ magical, then?” His mother asked quietly. “Are you…are you from the big academy in the city?”

Fjord chuckled. “Oh, we aren—”

“Yes,” said Beau, immediately pushing him aside. “At least, some of us are. Jester, Fjord, Nott and Caduceus,” she said, pointing at each one with a finger, “they are magic. I’m a monk of the Cobalt Soul, though, and Yasha is…a mercenary. But yes, the magic-users are affiliated with Soltryce.”

The parents very quickly exchanged glances. Then:

“ _Bitte_ ,” said his mother, and hastily curtsied. “Please, _bitte,_ forgive our rudeness. My name is Uma Ermendrud.”

“Leofric,” his father added with a bow. “You, ah…you said that you were looking for information and assistance?”

“Yes please,” said Fjord, quickly catching on. “If, of course, that isn’t too much trouble.”

“No, no, of course not,” Leofric said hastily. “No, not at all, er…sir.”

“Perhaps…” Uma gestured at the house, then gave the group a hopeful smile. “Perhaps we could take this conversation inside? It might be better to get out of the cold.”

The Mighty Nein all looked at each other. Then they turned to the parents, and C— _Bren_ , by their side.

“You know what?” Fjord finally said. “That sounds mighty kind of you. Thank you, for your hospitality.”

\-------------------------------

The inside of the cottage looked like a hoarder’s greatest dream. Despite absolute lack of sufficient space, it appeared that the Ermendruds had been determined to cram as much stuff in here as they could. Whatever this home had looked like before, today it was now the hodgepodge, multi-purpose living space of a young couple and their rambunctious son. The Nein, as they entered, were flooded with the clutter, they saw iron pots piled up on a stove, coats and fabric heaped up onto a counter, there was a small wooden table home to a great basket of bread, a cutting board, a large, heavy knife, next to that was a small, tattered book, and a half-sewn shirt pinned down by other knick-knacks. The curtains along the two windows at the back were patchwork and drawn shut for the night. There was a washbasin in the corner with socks hung up next to it, and next to that was a mostly-bare rack of drying meat. The other side of the room abruptly ended with a curtain that likely sectioned off a bedroom. Caduceus in particular noticed the thin string of a trapdoor, dangling down from the ceiling next to that, perhaps leading to an upstairs storage, or attic.

“Ah, _verzeihung,_ we do not have that many chairs either,” said Leofric, as he ushered the group into their home. “We may be able to use upturned pots, maybe—"

“ _Pots_?” Uma shook her head, “no, no we should drag the bed out—”

Jester quickly raised her hands and gave the both of them a calming smile. “Hey, hey, don’t worry. If it is easier for you, we can sit on the floor.”

“We really wouldn’t mind,” Caduceus added.

“We’ve been, er, in harsh situations before,” Nott said. “A wooden floor is already an upgrade.”

“Indeed?” Leofric blinked. He glance at his wife, who quickly nodded. “Oh, er...well, in that case, here, let us clear out some space…”

After an appropriate area had been created, with Yasha and Beauregard lending a hand, adventurer and farming family alike all sat down slightly awkwardly in a circle. Uma quickly pulled Bren into her lap to prevent him from getting up and harassing the guests. He seemed annoyed by this, but didn’t fight.

“So, what brings you to Blumenthal?” Leofric asked, once they had all gotten settled. “Travelers do not typically come through.”

“Oh, well, we’re actually looking for someone,” Jester said, cheerful and absolutely oblivious. And though the parents did not immediately answer, Beau noticed them stiffen just slightly.

“Really?” Uma’s voice faintly wavered. “Er…who is it? There are not many people here.”

“We can…help if necessary,” Leofric began, “though I assure you, none of us are—”

Beau raised a hand. “They’re not _in_ this village, specifically. We’re just passing through, on the way to Rexxentrum.”

Both parents visibly relaxed. Bren squirmed, and tried to get attention again.

“Where did you come from?” he asked. “A long ways away? You sound like southerners.”

Fjord tipped an imaginary hat. “We’re from all over,” he said. “I happen to be from the coast.”

“The _coast_?” Uma’s eyes went wide. “ _Tolle_ , that is…that is a very far distance, Herr.”

“I’m from there too,” Jester huffed. “It’s not _that_ impressive.”

“It is _quite_ a feat,” Leofric smiled. “Most folks in the village never leave the Fields.”

“ _I_ will,” Bren said, trying to puff up his chest. “I’ll take you both with me, when I do.”

Leofric chuckled, and reached over to pinch Bren’s cheek. “So, how long will you be in town?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder at the Nein. “Just one day, or…?”

“We aren’t sure yet,” Beau answered. “But we definitely should look for a place to stay the night. You wouldn’t happen to know somewhere good, would you?”

Leofric rubbed his beard. “Hmm… _ja_ , unfortunately, like I said earlier, we are not a village used to visitors. Our tavern is for drinking only, and usually those who visit, are to see family. I would volunteer our home for your stay, but…as you can see, it is rather small.”

“They can sleep in my room, Papa,” Bren suggested. “It’s in the attic,” he added helpfully, and Nott felt a little piece of her heart melt.

Uma sighed, and shook her head. “That room is too small for them, _spatz_. You are one boy, and they are many esteemed guests that would not fit in such a cramped space. Perhaps…” and then she brightened and turned to Leofric. “How about the old barn?” she asked. “The one near the northern fields?”

He seemed to consider this a moment, and then nodded. “That is a very good idea, actually.” Then he looked to the rest, and said, “I apologize that it is not the most glamorous space, especially for individuals of your stations, but it is the best we have in Blumenthal. I will assure you that it is dry, and there will be a roof over your heads. We are also not using the fields in the north, currently, so it should be very quiet. We could also provide blankets, if that is required…?”

“No, no,” Fjord raised a hand. “That’s already mighty kind of you. The barn sounds perfect.”

“Indeed?” Leofric smiled. “Ah, that is very good. _Bitte_ , if there is anything we can do to make your stay more comfortable, you only need to ask.”

Fjord opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, Beau interjected. Her arms were crossed, and her eyebrows raised.

“Sorry to be blunt,” she said, “but is there something that you want in return? In my experience, people aren’t usually kind to strangers, and wouldn’t easily let some strangers into their home. It’s alright if you want a favor, but I’d just like to know the terms up front.”

Both parents blinked in surprise and next to her, Fjord hit his forehead with his palm.

“Sorry about how gruff that was,” Nott tried, “Beau can be pretty prickly, sometimes.”

“Rough around the edges,” Caduceus added.

“ _Nein_ , no, it is alright,” Leofric sighed. “If, ah, if I _am_ being entirely honest—” and here he quickly glanced at his wife, “—we, ah…we _were_ hoping to ask you a few questions, in return.”

Beau finished glaring at Nott, and grinned triumphantly at the parents. “Yeah?” she asked. “Alright, like what?”

“Well…it is getting late now,” Leofric said. “We would not like to keep you waiting, and we do not have much food to offer. If you would like, we could continue this conversation tomorrow, after you all have rested and eaten?”

“We _are_ very sorry about that,” Uma added quickly. “I am sure you are used to much better treatment from hosts, but the harvest has not ripened yet, and we do not—”

“Oh, do we need food?” Jester asked. “Oh, food is easy, I can make a _ton_ of that!”

Uma stopped. She glanced at her husband, who shrugged in bewilderment, then back at Jester. “Er… _really_?” she asked, very slowly. “Er…do you have the supplies on you now, or…?”

Jester laughed. “No, no, no, I mean with magic. I only need ten minutes.”

“It would be our pleasure,” Fjord said, jumping in. “To repay you for your kindness. Besides, the spell always makes much more than we can eat by ourselves, and it’ll give us an excuse to talk longer. If that’s alright with you?”

Uma and Leofric exchanged glances again, and quickly had a mental, marital debate that weighed the pros and cons of allowing guests to do a host’s job, the possibility of offending these powerful strangers, and how hungry they really and truly were, and how perfect this opportunity would be to learn more about magic.

It wasn’t really much of a contest, in the end.

“If it is no bother,” Leofric began, “then we would be honor—"

“Great!” Jester shoved a hand in the haversack and produced a golden, jewel-encrusted goblet. The Ermendrud’s eyes instantly went wide, and Bren in particular leaned in with delight.

 “Get ready!” Jester cracked her knuckles. “Now it’s magic time!”

Then she closed her eyes, and started murmuring under her breath, and within seconds a faint blue glow had appeared, washing over the empty floorboards. Soon, something else shimmered in the air too, something barely-visible and nearly-transparent, but growing in tangibility by the second.

“It takes a bit,” Beau examined her nails. “It’ll be pretty cool when it finishes.”

Their group and the hosts all watched, some with astonishment and some with wonder, some as if this was the most normal thing in the world, as slowly, before their very eyes, appeared from the ether a magnificent spread of freshly-baked breads, sliced cheeses, lamb stews, fresh salads and bunches of gleaming grapes, scarlet strawberries and bottles of fine wine and cider and sugared almonds and mounds of mashed potatoes, all surrounding two crisp, roasted pheasants, an oven-browned turkey, and an entire smoked salmon. There was an apple pie directly in front of Caleb, a tower cinnamon rolls by Jester’s knee. And then, with one final wave of her hands, a golden plate and cup appeared next to everyone, with a fork and knife and napkin on the side.

And then the light faded, and she opened her eyes. She surveyed the feast, nodded at a job well done, then reached for a pastry and took a big bite.

She glanced up. Nobody else had moved. She smiled at the three indescribably stunned farmers.

“Well?” she asked. “What do you think?”

They watched her take another bite from a roll that had quite literally just manifested in the middle of their cottage. They blinked a few times.

Then Bren tumbled out of his mother’s grasp, and grabbed a spoon and started shoveling potatoes onto his plate.

“This is _amazing_!” he cried, shouting with excitement as he moved to the meat. “Frau Jester, this is the _coolest_ thing I’ve ever seen!”

“ _Unglaublich_ ,” his father breathed, unable to do anything else. “Is this…is this all _real_?”

“Real as anything,” Beau had picked up her own plate, was eyeing up the salmon. “At least, for one hour, anyway,” she grinned.

“It disappears after that,” Jester explained, spearing a cherry muffin with her knife. “But anything you eat will stay with you, but if you ask me, it tastes pretty good.”

“Magic is amazing, eh?” Fjord smiled.

The parents only nodded, still completely transfixed. Then Bren dropped a massive slice of turkey onto his mother’s empty plate. “Come on, Mama!” he laughed. “Come on, Papa! Let’s eat, let’s eat, let’s eat!”

Slowly, very slowly, they nodded again. And then they looked at each other, and then smiled, and—with gusto—joined in on the feast.

\-------------------------------

“So, this is only one of many spells that you know?”

“Yep! I can also open all the windows and doors, if that’s something you’d like.”

After the initial shock had worn off, the Ermendruds had completely and totally relaxed, accepting almost immediately when Fjord offered to pour them drinks, and allowing Yasha to cut them more turkey. Bren had constructed a mountain out of his potatoes, and was currently populating a valley beneath with almond-people, using a wedge of cheese as town hall. The entire small cottage smelled like a rich feast, and the warmth from their meals and the coal-burning stove hugged at their bodies and shielded them from the autumn chill.

“Most magic-users know many spells,” Jester added, as she went for her umpteenth Danish of the night. “Most magic-users do, actually.”

“I only know one,” Bren said, between bites of bread. “ _I_ think it’s really cool, though.”

“I’d love to see it,” said Nott, who had vanished a couple minutes ago and returned, still a halfling. “I bet you’re _really_ good at magic.”

“I’m the best at magic!” Bren agreed. “I just haven’t found many spells, yet.”

“We only realized he had the potential,” Leofric gave his son a fond smile. “It was mostly by accident, actually.”

“How did it happen?” Caduceus asked. “That seems like a wonderful story.”

“It is,” Uma chuckled. “We were very proud when he first showed us. You see, sometimes there _will_ be folks like you, passing through here on the way to the capital. One day, over half a year ago, we had a trader pass by with goods for sale. Random things, like toys and small tools, clothes and, well, books.”

“We let Bren pick something he wanted from the cart, as a birthday present,” Leofric continued, giving his son’s hair a ruffle. “This _dreckspatz_ chose a book, since he had learned to read from a neighbor—”

“Oma Müller,” Bren filled in.

“—right, and so we seized that opportunity, we scraped together enough to make the deal, and he got to bring the book home.”

“Let me guess,” said Beau, waving a pheasant-leg. “It was a book of spells?”

Bren grinned. “It was a book of _spell_ ,” he said. “It only had the one, inside. The rest was all explaining stuff, about _how_ they made it, which was also really interesting, but I didn’t really understand it all.” Then he brightened up, and said, “Hey, if I show the book to you all, maybe you could explain it to me! Hey, hey, wait, could you teach me _more_ spells?”

Nott’s eyes went wide. She almost choked. “You want _us_ to teach _you_?”

Leofric sighed, and quickly shook his head. “Excuse him, _bitte_ , he is just excited. We understand that magic is not something you can just give to common folk, like ourselves—”

“Nah,” said Jester, and they both paused.

“Er… _entschuldigung_?”

“We can teach him,” Nott added, recovering. “Really, it’s no bother, and he’s such a smart boy, it would be waste not to.”

“Yes!” Bren screamed, pumping a fist into the air. “Yes, yes, please, thank you! Mama, Papa, did you hear that?”

He whirled around, to looked at his parents. This evening had been one unbelievable moment after another, but right now their breathless gratitude trumped every second from before.

“R…really?” Uma whispered. Her face was practically glowing. “That…that would be _fantastic,_ thank you!”

“Truly,” Leofric added, his fingers trembled slightly as he reached out to shake Jester’s hand. “That is…you do not know how much this means to us.”

Bren was doing a little dance in place. “That’s amazing!” he cried again. “That’s wonderful, _danke_ , _danke_ , thank—"

He was cut off, as a large yawn shook his body.

“Oh,” Uma quickly reached for her son, “it _is_ getting a little late now, isn’t it?” She turned to the Nein once more, with a bursting smile. “Thank you, again, thank you _so_ much. Though, I believe I should put this one to bed.”

“I’m fine, Mama,” Bren said immediately. “I want to talk to the magic people some more.”

“Actually,” said Fjord, giving him a soft smile, “we should probably get some rest too. It’s, ah, it’s been a long day.”

Leofric was on his feet in seconds. “Here, I’ll show you the way,” he said.

“Thank you for the incredible meal,” nodded Uma, standing as well and pulling Bren up with her. “All of this is so…we do not deserve this kindness.”

“Nonsense,” said Caduceus, drinking in the cordial atmosphere. “It was _our_ honor to have such lovely hosts.”

“Nice to meet you, C-Bren,” Jester said, giving the little boy a grin. “I’ll see you tomorrow for magic class?”

“You bet!” Bren grinned, before he was stopped by another yawn. “Thank you again, Frau.”

“Come on, _spatz_ ,” Uma chuckled and nudged him towards the curtained area. “It’s off to bed for you.”

Leofric pulled a long brown coat off the rack. “Shall we get going?” he asked the group. “It’s only a short walk from here.

Fjord dipped his head, and motioned to the door.

“Of course. Lead the way.”

\-------------------------------

For a while, as they sat atop stacks of dried straw, up in the dusty old barn’s hayloft, completely alone on this still autumn night, not a single one of them spoke. Occasionally, there would be shuffling below, as a stray mouse scurried across the barn floor. Moonbeams filtered in above the rafters, glancing off a floating strand of cobweb. Somewhere far beyond, an owl took flight.

It was quiet, and peaceful, and utterly strange.

“What the fuck,” Beau said, eventually ending the silence. “You all…we all saw that, right?”

“This is too crazy to be the real world.” Nott shifted against some hay. “I mean…no matter how realistic this all seems, there’s no _way_ we transported out of that lab, into Caleb’s old town, right into a kid and a family with the same names.”

“I keep trying to call him Caleb,” Yasha murmured. “It is strange to address him by anything else.”

“I guess this means the spell worked, then,” Fjord sighed. “And Caleb really is dreaming of the past.”

“I _knew_ it did,” Jester said, hushed but victorious. “I just _knew_ that I did it all right.”

“This is very lifelike,” Caduceus rumbled, and picked up a loose piece of straw. “I mean…it’s as if we’re still at home.”

“I was thinking about that too,” Beau said, “and actually, I bet that it has something to do with his brain. I mean, he’s always going on about his memory, right? Maybe this is evidence of that. He’s dreaming hard about his past, and that fucker remembers _every_ detail.”

“The magic of the Plane of Dreams is also really strong,” Jester supplied. “It could be helping t make it feel _more_ real.”

“But now that we know where we are, what does that mean?” Yasha sat up against her haystack. “This is such a simple dream. There are no monsters here, nothing keeping him captive.”

“Unless his _mind_ is the prison,” Caduceus murmured. “Maybe, like we said before, he’s having too much fun to wake up.”

“It certainly looks like fun,” Nott sighed. “He’s just so cute, like this. He reminds me of Luke.”

Jester pulled her in for a hug, and the straw beneath their bodies rustled.

“I just don’t get it, though,” Jester said. “I mean, this is just like normal life. There’s no rainbows, no pastries, no unicorns, no nothing. Just Caleb, as a little boy, in a boring town. It really can’t be _that_ good, can it?”

Beau grunted, and waved her hand through some dust.

“Sure, right, but _think_ about it, for a sec. I mean, we know what _our_ Caleb is like. Boring and dour and bland as a fencepost. I mean, sure, he’s gotten better, but he’s not exactly the life of the party.”

She raised her other hand into moonlight.

“Now think about baby Caleb,” she murmured. “Remember how much he smiled? And he had so much energy, and he was runnin’ around the village, talkin’ a out all the people he knows, and how much he loves his life, and how excited he is, and how happy he was to meet us, and…and…”

“It’s the happiest I’ve ever seen him,” Nott gave a sad smile. “It’s…it’s the happiest I’ve ever seen _anyone_.”

“Exactly,” Beau said. “I think that’s all there is to it.”

“So…he doesn’t what this to end,” Fjord murmured. “He…he doesn’t want to leave.”

“Can you blame him?” Caduceus sighed.

“No,” Jester mumbled. “But also…this isn’t real.”

“Then that changes nothing,” Yasha’s voice cut through the quiet. “That just means our initial goal is the same. We will still be trying to wake him up. This is all in his mind, and the _real_ Caleb is out there.”

“Yeah,” Beau gave a nod. “But now I’m _really_ not sure what we should do. I mean…we can’t just _grab_ him, right? We can’t just run up to that kid and shake him and tell him this whole world’s a lie. I mean… _can_ we? Would that work?”

“I’m not sure,” Fjord scratched his head. “I mean, he didn’t seem to recognize us, so I’m not sure he’ll even believe it. Plus, he’s, y’know, a kid. I don’t think that’d go over well.”

“But then what?” Nott asked. “What other options do we have?”

“Er…maybe we could kill him?” Yasha tried. “I still have my sword. And he is very small.”

There was a brief pause, following that. As one, they all rose, to stare at her silhouette.

“Was that a bad plan?” Yasha asked. “Sorry, I thought we were just stating our options.”

“Maybe we can make it a Plan B,” Caduceus said.

“More like a Plan Z,” Nott mumbled.

“ _I_ think we should try to get more info,” Beau sighed, flopping back down into the straw. “I mean, I feel like that might be all we can do. Short of infanticide, that is.”

“Again, I am sorry.”

“I agree with Beau,” Fjord nodded. “Recon is always a good place to start, and going in blind only works for us sometimes. Tomorrow, when the sun comes up, we figure out what baby-Caleb knows, and go from there.”

“Would that not be too late?” Yasha asked. “Real-world-Caleb is still alone in a stone lab. What if we take too long here, and something happens?”

“Actually,” Jester said, “actually, I…I remembered something from the Traveler’s stories. Earlier, while we were eating. I think…I think he told me once that time moves differently in other worlds. One hour in here, is like…six seconds out there.”

“ _Six_?” Fjord blinked. “That’s…oddly specific. Is that true?”

She shrugged. “It’s what the Traveler says. I tend to believe him, you know.”

“Alright, fair enough,” Fjord re-positioned himself in the hay. “I guess we’ll just have to hope that’s true.”

“Hey, when we start grilling Caleb or whatever, should we say anything to his parents?” Beau asked. “I mean, they might be confused if all of us random-ass adults suddenly start hanging around their kid.”

“Ah, but wait!” Nott’s eyes glittered. “We’ve got the perfect excuse! Magic lessons, right? They want him to learn magic, and we already promised we’d show him some.”

“That’s…oh yeah.”

Caduceus nodded. “If that’s our plan, then we should get some sleep. After all, we’ll probably need it, right?”

“Right,” Jester said, clapping her hands together. I used up a _lot_ of really good spells, today.”

“I will take first watch,” Yasha said. “I do not wholly trust this…dimension.”

“Plane,” said Beau.

“Right, that.”

“Here, I’ll join you,” Nott hopped down from her pile. “I can’t really sleep now, anyways.”

They all took a few moments to get comfortable, stow away the last of their supplies and spread themselves out across the stacks of hay. And then, once they’d all settled in, Fjord blew out the tiny lantern beside him, and everyone closed their eyes for the night.

Save for two, who kept sat vigil through the darkness. One pair of glowing, amber eyes, shining bright.

“This is a strange place,” Yasha whispered. “I do not like this situation.”

“Me neither,” Nott mumbled. “I don’t like it one bit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man what a wild ride episode 26 was, huh? sorry it took me so long to write this, i was REELING from the events of that and the next update should hopefully be up faster!
> 
> In the meantime, comments and kudos keep me going, and if you ever want to talk, or shout at me about critical role, hit me up [@sockablock](https://www.sockablock.tumblr.com) on Tumblr!


	3. Skies Darkening at Sunset

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM ALIVE FEATURING: magic lessons, tall and smol, farmer fun, (and sleep deprivation from yours truly)

“So, everyone got the plan?”

“Me and Yasha are on recon.”

“You and me are teaching magic!”

“I can’t _believe_ we’ve gotta sit around and do nothing! _Nothing_! Come on, are you crazy?”

Fjord gave Nott an apologetic smile. “Look, it’s nothin’ on you or Cad, or anything. It’s just that the two of you tend to draw attention, and that’s the last thing we want in an unknown world.”

It was morning now, or at least they assumed it was, because certainly some kind of sun had risen. They were all standing outside the old barn, clustered together around the door. Jester was still plucking hay off her dress, and Caduceus had woven a second straw hat during his watch.

“It’s a bullshit job,” Nott muttered, kicking the ground sullenly. “That’s _my_ boy. I should be there.”

“We can keep an eye out from a distance,” Caduceus laid a gentle hand on her head. “Sometimes the best thing to do, is nothing.”

“ _I’m_ the one that knows magic,” Nott grumbled. “The closest kind to wizardry, anyways.”

Beau raised an eyebrow. “But what happens if you drop you disguise?” she said. “Are you really prepared for that? Dream or not, you know these towns. You know it’ll be dangerous.”

“Don’t lecture _me_ on danger,” Nott glowered, but did not argue after that. “Well, whatever. Let’s just get this over with.”

“We’ll have a great time together,” Caduceus tried. “I can teach you how to make a hat.”

“Yeah, well…yeah, alright.”

And with that, Fjord saluted like a general seeing off his troops.

“Alright, gang,” he gave a nod. “If that’s all settled, let’s roll out. I know time’s weird in here, but the sooner we get our wizard back, the sooner we can _all_ go home.”

\-------------------------------

Little Caleb— _Bren_ , _that would never stop being weird_ —was running gleefully through the grass when they arrived at his home, a sack in his arms, chasing a small flock of chickens around.

“Come back!” he shouted at a scraggly hen. “Come on, come on, I have to feed you!”

Jester immediately started giggling at this sight; even Fjord, usually reluctant around children, felt his expression soften.

“Bren!” he called amicably, “Bren, good morning!”

The boy stopped in his tracks, almost tripped, and then whipped around. A wide smile broke across his face.

“Hey, the magic people!” He waved one excited hand, the other still supporting a bag of cornmeal. “Hey, hey, hey, you came!” Then he paused and added, “Where are the other ones? The tall one and the dark one and the angry one and the halfling?”

“They’re dealing with other stuff right now,” Jester explained, and crouched down so she was level with Caleb. “But _we’re_ here, so don’t you worry! You’re interested in learning a bit about magic, right? And we promised we’d help.”

“If it’s alright with you parents,” Fjord said, “we’ve got some free time, now. Sound good?”

Bren’s eyes went wide as saucers. He nodded as quickly as he physically could. “Papa is inside right now,” he said. “ _Warte mal_! I’ll be right back!”

He dropped the bag of cornmeal and bolted towards the house.

The entire flock of chickens swarmed in around them. Fjord turned to Jester as a hen pecked his shoe.

“Well, uh…so far so good, yeah?”

“Yeah!” She tried to pet a hen, which squawked with surprise and scrambled away. “Just, uh…just checking, though, how _much_ exactly do you know about wizarding?”

They watched a hen cluck sharply at an approaching rooster. It backed off almost instantly.

“Actually,” Fjord muttered, “actually, uh…Nott _did_ kind of have a point, earlier. I don’t know very much at all.”

\-------------------------------

Beau and Yasha stood at the edge of the fields, eyeing up a group of farmers.

“Okay, so…you distract them. Then I’ll sneak up from behind, grab one, and then we run away and tie him up and I punch the truth outta him.”

“ _Why_?”

“Why not?”

“I mean, I am not opposed to that plan, but…I thought we were supposed to be non-violent.”

Beau sighed in defeat. “I know, I know,” she muttered. “I just don’t wanna talk to anybody. I _hate_ socializing.”

“But…that is our _job_ ,” Yasha said. “Was that not the whole point of this?”

“ _Yeah,_ ” Beau mumbled, “but only because the choice was between _us_ or a goblin and a giant talking cow.”

There was another pause, after that.

“That is a bit mean, don’t you think?”

Her shoulders sagged, and she rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I guess,” Beau said. “I’m just…I’m just really fuckin’ nervous, okay? Fuck it, let’s just go in. And, uh, sorry, Caduceus. Wherever you are.”

\-------------------------------

“—and then I think he _proposed_ to me?” Nott waved her hands around in the air. “ _Maybe_? I don’t completely know, it was a really weird night. And between all the gnolls and the dead people and the dying people, a lot was going on. Plus,” she added almost as an afterthought, “I’m a married woman and I shouldn’t be entertaining this kind of thing.”

“Wow,” Caduceus rumbled. “You guys really got up to some shenanigans in the old days, huh?”

The two of them were sitting under the shade of a large maple tree, lounging against its trunk and nestled snug in the thick grass. Caduceus had pulled out a small set of pipes, and was playing an idle melody as he listened to Nott speak.

“We’ve been through a lot,” she shrugged. “Before you came along, but also after. Especially after. And it’s nice you’re here. You’re very soft, and now we don’t have to force Jester to heal us.”

Caduceus chuckled. “It’s been nice travelling with you guys as well. You’re very small, and Jester’s fun.”

“I bet she’s having tons of fun without us right now,” Nott grumbled. “I don’t see why _I_ couldn’t have taught Caleb magic. I know the _most_ about it, out of all of us.”

Caduceus shrugged. “Sometimes we just have to go with the flow. Besides, weren’t you worried about Caleb seeing you, or something?”

“Yeah,” Nott sighed, “I am, I just…I don’t think I could handle it if I scared him. He’s always…he was one of the first people to accept me as a goblin. But now, seeing him as a kid like this, before…before _everything_ …”

“Before he learned better.”

“Before any of us did,” Nott sighed. “You gotta understand, growing up in the plains like this, we _all_ get told stories about how scary and evil the goblins are. And they aren’t, you know, _totally_ wrong. Goblins here are the _worst_.”

Caduceus lowered his pipes. “What about the ones we met in Asarius?”

“Exactly,” Nott muttered glumly. “I don’t even know how I feel about this anymore. This _sucks_. This whole _situation_ sucks, being in this weird dream-world _sucks_.”

“Well,” said Caduceus, after a few moments, “at least nothing is attacking us.”

Nott considered this for a second. Then she exhaled, and shrugged.

“That’s true. And, well…and it _is_ kind of fun to see Caleb this way. He’s _so_ cute.”

“He is,” Caduceus agreed. “Maybe it’s best to just take this time to relax.”

“Yeah,” Nott said slowly, leaning into the tree, “yeah…yeah, alright.”

“Why don’t you tell me another story?” Caduceus chuckled. “How did you and Caleb meet?”

“Oh, _boy_ ,” Nott gave a smile. “Okay, that’s a good one…”

\-------------------------------

 

“Alrighty young man!” Jester laughed as Bren hopped onto a fallen log. “What sort of thing are you hoping to learn today?”

The boy began balance-beaming across, wobbling slightly as he went. “I don’t really know,” he said. “What do you want to teach me?”

Jester glanced at Fjord, who shrugged, and then turned back to Bren. “We- _ell,_ you said you could do some magic already, right? How much do you know?”

He gave a proud smile, and reached the end of the log. “I can cast one spell!” he declared. “It’s the one from the book. I would show you, but I have to have a _glühwürmchen_ to do it.”

“Er…a what?” Fjord blinked.

“A glow worm!” Bren giggled. “Sorry, I keep forgetting that you are from far away.”

“Far is definitely one way of putting it,” Fjord chuckled. “Don’t worry about the spell, kid, you can show us later.”

“Then _I_ get to be the teacher, right?”

“Exactly!” Jester helped Bren jump back onto the ground. “Though, right now, it’s our turn. So…what is your request, o Student?”

Bren tapped his chin. “Mm…do you think that you could teach me _everything_?”

Fjord snorted. “I’m not sure that’s possible, in such a short amount of time.”

“Maybe something specific?” Jester suggested.

Bren paused to think, then brightened up. “Hey, hey, what about that fire trick you did yesterday?” He looked at Jester with hopeful eyes. “I want to learn _that_ one,” he said.

“Thaumaturgy?” She tilted her head. “ _Really_? Is there, ah, is there any reason why?”

Bren shrugged. “I want to make fire. Winter is coming soon, and our house is always cold at night. I want to warm it up, so Mama and Papa won’t have to worry.” He bent down, and picked up a stick. “The lights that I can already make don’t have any warmth,” he added grudgingly.

Fjord gave Jester a look that said: _oh boy._

She sighed, and crouched down next to him. “Er…I’m sorry to say this, C—Bren, but I’m not… _totally_ sure you can learn that one.”

“ _Was_?” his hopeful expression fell. “Aw, but…but _why,_ Frau?”

“Well, ‘cause it’s not actually a spell,” she rubbed her neck. “It’s actually just an ability.”

“An ability?”

“Right,” Jester nodded. “I’m a tiefling—” she gestured to her horns, “—and we have natural magic that’s just…just in our blood. It lets us do certain spells without actually having to learn them.”

Bren’s dejected frown morphed into an expression of budding curiosity. “Whoa,” he said, “wait… _what_? And…and _how_? How does that work? Where does the magic come from? Why tieflings? Are you born knowing, or do you—”

Jester quickly raised a hand. “I think,” she said, wearing a sly grin, “I _think_ I might have something to teach you, now. It’s not exactly a magic itself, but it _is_ very important for those who want to _know_ it.”

Bren nodded immediately. He took a seat at the edge of the fallen log, and looked up to Jester with gleaming eyes. “ _Bitte,_ ” he grinned, “ _bitte_ , I would like to know!”

Jester laughed. Then she gestured for Fjord to join her down in the grass.

“Alrighty then!” she declared. “Listen closely to Professor Jester! And pay _really_ good attention, because there might be a quiz afterwards.”

\-------------------------------

“Excuse me,” called Beau, as they waded through wheat, “excuse me, can I talk to you?”

One of the farmers turned, then looked aback. “Are you the help?” he raised an eyebrow. ‘You are not what I expected, but—” he gave them a once-over, “—you seem strong enough. There are two sickles in that cart, grab one and get started, _ja_?”

Beau and Yasha quickly exchanged glances.

“Is everything alright?” the farmer asked. “ _Bitte_ , you are already late, and I am not paying you to stand and gawk.”

“Actually,” Beau tried her best to be diplomatic, “you’re not paying us at all. We aren’t the help, but we’re wiling to lend a hand in exchange for information. Mind answering a few questions?”

The farmer’s other eyebrow went up. “You are not trying to sell me something, are you?”

“Er…no?” Yasha glanced at Beau. “No, right?”

“Gods, no. Come on, _free_ of charge,” she added to the farmer.

He seemed to consider them once again, then shrugged. “Sure, sure, alright.” He pointed at the cart. “My name is Max. Come on, hop to it.”

\-------------------------------

“Magic isn’t just a tool or a skill,” Jester said as the mid-afternoon sun shone down. “It isn’t just a method that allows you to control water, or a way to slow time, or heal wounds, or make fire. Magic isn’t only something to be controlled. It’s an idea. It’s a feeling. It’s a wish, and it _lives._ It exists in every single fragment of our world. It’s in the first breath of a little baby, in the skies darkening at sunset, the fields dancing in the wind. It’s in the sun, and the clouds, and the dirt, and the rivers, it’s woven into the fabric of our plane and exists side-by-side with all us living things. Sometimes, people like me, or like Fjord, and people like you, too, can find this magic. We can study it, and connect to it, and _understand_ it, and only then can we start to use it. You’ve already done that once yourself,” she grinned at a beaming Bren.

“Dancing Lights,” he agreed proudly.

“Exactly! But,” she raised a finger, “but there are also _other_ planes. Other kinds of people, too. And in those worlds, sometimes the magic is stronger. Or maybe it’s unique, not found anywhere else. And people who are born there, in those worlds, or people with a connection to them, are also naturally connected to that magic. For them, casting certain spells is as easy as breathing. And it’s passed on through parents and children, like your blue eyes or red hair.”

“Or like green skin?”

Fjord gave a chuckle. “Yeah,” he nodded, “yeah, somethin’ like that.”

“ _Just_ like that,” Jester said. “And that’s where _my_ magic comes from. Well, some of it, anyway. It’s actually kind of all over the place.”

“All over the place?” Bren echoed. “Like where?”

Jester stroked her chin. “Well, technically there are _tons_ of other planes. There’s the Celestial Plane, where all the gods live, and their followers get divine types of magic from them. There are Elemental Planes, full of fire or water or air or earth, and people in tune with nature get _their_ own kind of magic from those. The list goes on and on, really.”

“I think I’m getting déjà vu,” Fjord muttered.

“Where does _my_ magic come from?” Bren asked. “The elements?”

Jester shrugged. “A bit yes, and a bit no. I’m not, um, I’m not an _expert_ on wizards, but from what I’ve learned, wizard magic is different, that way. I have…I have a friend, ah…”

She met Bren’s eyes. They sparkled in the mid-morning sun.

“I have a friend,” Jester said gently. “Who tried to teach me about his magic, once. I wish I had paid more attention, at the time, but he always used to say that wizard magic was tied to all the planes. That’s what made them so special. Instead of being born with magic, or attracting it through song, or being given it as a gift, wizards have to find the magic themselves. And once you see it, once you feel its beat and hear its rhythm, you can pull at all the wonderful, colorful threads that make up the weave of magic across _all_ the worlds. Wizards can learn almost _any_ spell, because once they find magic, they can do anything. It’s pretty cool,” she added with a grin.

Bren seemed to have forgotten how to use his face. After a second, he managed:

“ _Tolle_ … _wow_.”

Fjord glanced between the two of them. The little boy frozen in amazement, Jester looking rather proud of herself. He gave a cough.

“You know, uh, you know, there’s _other_ places that have magic, too.”

Bren’s eyes instantly snapped to him. “Really?” he asked. “Like where?”

“Well…” he gave another cough. “Well, like…” he met the boy’s gaze. “How about the Plane of Dreams?”

Now Jester was also staring at Bren, the both of him intently glued on his bright expression seeking the tiniest crack, or recognition.

The boy’s fascinated, oblivious smile never faltered.

“That sounds really cool!” he said cheerfully. “What happens there?”

Fjord’s shoulders slumped. Jester sighed and gave him a weak grin. “Well, the Plane of Dreams is very important one,” she said. “It’s where our minds all go when we’re falling asleep. And it’s where the dreams all live.”

“Right,” Fjord added, not daring to hope. “Dreams, and other things that aren’t real. Strong memories, hopes, anything you could wish for.”

“Neat!” Bren grinned. “Do I go there when _I_ sleep, too?”

“Yep,” Jester leaned over and ruffled his hair. “And usually,” she sighed, “you don’t even know it.”

\-------------------------------

Beau and Yasha fell into a comfortable pace as they helped the farmers cut down stalks of grain. This task was useful for all its monotony, as it gave their hands something to do as their higher brain functions were directed to small talk.

“So,” Beau said, as conversationally as she could, “been a farmer for very long?”

Max gave a bark of laughter. “Sure,” he said. “For as long as I remember. Sometimes I feel like I don’t exist, outside the fields.”

“Have you lived here your whole life?” Yasha asked. “In this…Blumenthal, town?”

“ _Ja_ ,” Max nodded. “I have always been here. It where I was born, it is where I am now.”

“Really?” Beau asked. “And it isn’t boring?”

Max gave a shrug. “Perhaps, to some. You wake up, you get to work, eventually, the sun goes down. Then you go home, tell stories to you kids. Though, sometimes, we hold big festivals. Those are the days where more can happen.”

“So why do you not leave?” Yasha asked. “Why not go somewhere else?”

Max laughed. “Because I dno’t want to,” he said. “This is safety. This is familiar. If I venture out into the great unknown, it could be too dangerous. There is too much rich. And really, this simple life suits me. I have never known anything else, but I never really wanted to, either.”

Beau raised an eyebrow. “Well…” she eventually shrugged. “I guess that’s one way to live.”

“You should stay a while,” Max suggested. “You are not bad with that sickle. Then you might switch to my point of view.”

“I have never been in one place so long,” Yasha murmured. “I cannot imagine staying here forever.”

“I enjoy it,” Max cut down another stalk. “Blumenthal is calm, and peaceful, and the people are good. Everybody here knows everyone else. It is the sort of town where neighbors can trust each other, and the elders help take care of the young ones. And, there are plenty of playmates for your children.”

“How’s the drink?” Beau asked. “We saw a tavern on the way in.”

Max laughed again. “Strong. The way we Zemnians like it.”

There were a few minutes of silence after that, as the conversation slowly died away. Then Beau took a deep breath and asked:

“Could you…tell us a bit about yourself? If, uh, if that’s not weird?”

Yasha gave her an encouraging smile. Beau smiled back a strained grimace.

“ _Ja_ , sure,” Max said, unnoticing. “What do you want to know?”

Beau shrugged. “Uh, I guess, how old are you?”

And then, Max paused. He lowered his blade. He seemed to consider this, for almost too long. “I…I…er…”

Then he gave a cough. He shook his head, and turned back to Beau with a shrug. “Much older than you, I assume.”

Beau blinked. She turned to Yasha, who shrugged.

“Are, uh, are you married?” she asked.

“Sure.”

When he did not elaborate, Yasha leaned forward. “What is her name?” she asked.

“Clara,” said Max. “Her name is Clara.”

There was a brief, pause, where they both waited for more. When nothing came, Beau tried again.

“What about, uh, _fuck_ , what about your _kids_?”

Max _instantly_ brightened. “Oh, well, my oldest is Emillia, she helps around the garden and in the fields sometimes now, so she doesn’t spend as much time playing. Then after her is Charlotte, just over eight, who hangs around with the other village children. And the youngest daughter is Lena, only three, so she spends most of her time at home.”

Beau briefly wondered if you could get whiplash in conversation.

“So, uh,” she rubbed her eyes. “so you love your kids a lot, huh?”

“Of course,” Max chuckled. “They are very important to me. And this is a wonderful town for children.”

“Right, yeah, you said that before.”

“What about those without children?” Yasha asked. “Are there any families like that.”

“Oh, sure, probably,” Max shrugged. “I do not know much about them, personally.”

 “Why?” Beau’s eyes narrowed. “You only care about the people that wanna carry on their bloodline, or somethin’?”

Max shook his head, and laughed. “Oh, no, not at all,” he said. “It’s your own choice, of course. It’s just that they…that they…they…”

For the second time that day, he paused.

“I…who are they?” he murmured. “They…they…I only remember the parents of my daughter’s friends…?”

Beau and Yasha exchanged looks again.

The monk tried to convey an expression that said: _you’ve noticed that there’s something weird happening, right?_

 

The barbarian shrugged. Her eyes said: _what?_

Beau sighed and turned back to Max. “Hey,” she said, “hey, isn’t it weird that you can’t remember the adults? You said _yourself_ that everyone knows everyone. And, while we’re at it, why do you only talk about stuff good for kids?”

He blinked. He rubbed his eyes, and frowned. “What?” he said. “Er…do I? I don’t, uh, I didn’t notice.”

And then, finally, Beau pinched the bridge of her nose. She reached out, and grabbed Max by the shoulder. “Hey!” she said. “Hey, what the _fuck_? Right now, tell me more about yourself! What’s going on? Who _are_ you?”

“What?” Max’s blade clattered to the ground, and Beau pulled him in until they were nose-to-nose. “What are you doing?! What do you want?!”

“For fuck’s sake, man, I don’t know either!” Beau was shouting in his face now. “I don’t even know what I’m _supposed_ to be asking you! What are you hiding? What’s going _on_?”

“I don’t know!” Max cried. “Please, let me go! I’ll tell you whatever you want!”

“Beauregard,” Yasha’s voice was soft. “Beauregard, maybe you should let him go.”

Beau glanced back at Yasha. Then he glared one more time at the man.

“This is a waste of time,” she sighed, letting Max go and brushing the grass off his shirt. “He probably doesn’t even know anything. At this rate, I’d be surprised if he knew his birthday.”

She raised an eyebrow, and crossed her arms. “ _Do_ you know it, Max? Are you a fall baby, or…”

She trailed off, when she noticed the stricken expression across his face.

“Look,” she said slowly, reaching out a hand, “look, I’m sorry if I—"

Very, very slowly, Max rubbed his face. He clutched his head.

“I…I…”

He looked up at Beau.

And almost involuntarily, she took a step back. There was something there now, something strange, behind his eyes…

“I…I don’t know when my birthday is.”

Yasha and Beau both stopped. They frowned. They stared at Max.

“Er…what?” Beau asked.

Max shook his head again. His gaze narrowed, and he tilted his neck as if he were listening to a far-off song.

“My…my birthday. When is…when was I—”

Yasha carefully took a step forward. Her hand had gone to the hilt of her sword.

“This is strange,” she said softy, “Beauregard, be careful.”

Beau gave a nod, then very slowly raised a hand. She stared into his face, and tried to keep her voice low.

“Max?” she murmured. “Max, when were you born?”

His eyes, very slowly, turned back to her.

“I…I don’t know,” he whispered.

“Not even a month?” Beau asked. “A year? A decade?”

He shook his head.

“I can’t…I can’t remember…”

“What about a place? You said here, right? Where, exactly?”

“ _Nein_ ,” he whispered, “ _nein_ , no I do not—”

And then a look of utter anguish _burned_ across Max’s face, his eyes blew wide and his mouth grew thin and tears streaked across his twisted face and his body started shaking and his fingers began to tremble and he gasped, he reached out, his throat gave a rattle—

“ _Please_!” he begged, his whole body _heaving_ , “please, please help me, please, I don’t _know_ —"

\-------------------------------

And then somewhere else, somewhere a mile away, Bren’s tiny form suddenly lurched off the log. He collapsed, in a second, face-first into grass.

Jester and Fjord instantly shot to their feet.

“Caleb!” she scrambled to his side. “Ca— _Bren_ , are you okay?”

“What’s the matter?” Fjord leaned over next to her. “Bren, are you oka—”

They froze.

The tiny shape that was Bren was curled into a tight ball, quivering, his knees against his chest and clutching his head. His eyes were squeezed shut and his breath came in huge heaves, he was shaking, crying, and worst of all, whimpering in soft, broken, keening gasps of pain.

“It _hurts_ ,” he rasped, “it _hurts_! Make…make it stop, it _hurts_!”

“What hurts?!” Jester poured over him, frantic. “What…what’s hurting you?”

Bren shook his head. “I don’t, I don’t, make it _stop_ —"

“Please, we need you to talk to us,” Fjord said, “we can’t help if we don’t know what’s—"

Bren _flinched._ “Stop,” he sobbed, “just stop…stop asking!”

“We need to know what the problem is,” Fjord said, “we need to find the pain—”

Bren inhaled sharply, shook his head again. “No!” he screamed, “not that, I don’t _know_! Stop asking, I don’t know, Max never _told_ me! I don’t know! Please, I don’t _know_ —”

\-------------------------------

From within the soft clouds above Nott and Cad’s heads, there was a terrible, horrible, discordant wail.

They looked up in time to see a rip tear through sky.

It was inky, and black, with nothing beyond.

They considered this for a few silent moments.

The void gaped back at them, unyielding and cold.

Very, very slowly, Nott reached for her flask.

\-----------------------

And then Caleb _gasped,_ pulled on that final breath—

\-----------------------

Max crumpled like his strings had been cut.  

His body hit the ground.

The wheat rose—

—then he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who's back!! Thank you all so so so much for your patience!! I've been adjusting to a new country (the UK) and getting back into the swing of college, so things have been pretty insane lately! But hopefully, from now on y'all can expect weekly-ish updates, since I'm super DUPER excited to keep going with this story! 
> 
> In the meantime, comments and kudos keep me going, and if you ever want to talk, or shout at me about critical role, hit me up [@sockablock](https://www.sockablock.tumblr.com) on Tumblr! 
> 
> Love you all! <333


	4. Shifting through the Wheat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rabbit hole is way crazier than I thought, featuring: inappropriate comedic timing, the twilight zone, i start figuring out Cad's voice, things get weird and then they get weirder, Beau Makes a Choice

And just as suddenly as it had begun, Bren’s panicked crying stopped. His breathing eased, his chest relaxed. His eyes slowly opened.

The faces of Jester and Fjord peered back, intent and concerned out of their minds.

Bren squinted. He rubbed his eyes.

“What…what just happened?”

“Easy, now. Take it easy.”

“It’s okay, Bren. It’s okay.”

Jester carefully helped him sit up, positioned him gently against the side of the log. She brushed the hair away from his face and he leaned into her touch, whimpered when she pulled away.

“You were…hurting,” Jester murmured. “How, um, how do you feel now?”

He rubbed his face one last time, spoke slowly. “I…I think I’m okay?” he mumbled. “I, um, I’m not sure. I think something was…happening, somewhere. But…but it’s stopped, now.”

“Something was happening?” Fjord echoed. “What do you mean?”

Bren frowned. ‘I’m not…I’m not sure.” He gazed at the adults with frustrated confusion. “I…I don’t know, it was just a weird feeling. Like the whole world was…wrong.”

Jester and Fjord exchanged worried glances.

“Wrong?” She prompted gently. “Can you…do you remember anything _else_?”

“You were shouting about someone called ‘Max.’ Who is that?” Fjord added.

Caleb shook his head. “I don’t…I don’t _know_ ,” he whispered. “Please, I just…can I go home?” He looked imploringly at their faces. “I…I would like to go home, please.”

Fjord glanced at Jester, who immediately nodded.

“Sure,” she murmured. “Of course. Here, here, want to ride on my shoulders?”

Caleb managed a very small laugh. The corner of his lips quirked up in a tiny smile.

“ _Ja_ ,” he said softly. “ _Ja_ okay, that sounds fun.”

\-----------------------

Right as Nott and Caduceus were about to go sprinting off towards town, weapons in hand and spells on their tongues, the sky above them changed again.

Wisps of blue swirled around the outer rim of the inky tear, growing stronger, as if an invisible hand were carefully painting in the missing hues and light. Clouds started to bloom across the rip. The sun’s rays shone bright in the darkness, and within seconds the sky had flooded back in, knit back together over the hole and repaired itself with not a single trace of the terrible scar that had been there just before.

They both watched this; for as second, neither of them moved.

And then Caduceus leaned against his staff.

“You know, my mother always had a saying.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You can clean up the vomit, but you’ll always know that it was there.”

Nott considered this. She looked up at Cad.

“She mostly said that when my siblings threw up on the floor,” he explained, but not really. “Clarabelle always had it the worst.”

Nott blinked at him. Then she turned back to the sky.

“Lets…let’s find Beau and Yasha, first. I think they’re closer by.”

\-----------------------

They were, as it turned out, only a few minutes away, buried neck-deep in the nearing fields and frantically sifting through the wheat. Beau pushing back stalk after stalk, shouting at the top of her lungs, as Yasha worked methodically next to her, face a mask of forced, stiff calm. Nott, from her vantage point, almost couldn’t see them, but the noise they were making was loud enough to be heard for miles.

“What are you doing?!” Nott hollered as they approached. She had her hood up, to try and hide her appearance, through strangely none of the other farmers seemed to pay them any mind. Instead, they were all looking down, moving rhythmically and absorbed in their work. They didn’t even remark as loose grain flew through the air or as a seven-foot cow-man lumbered past.

In any other situation, this would have been a relief for Nott. But right here, right now, after everything else, it was nothing less than terrifying.

Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, Beau and Yasha seemed to share their state of mind.

“Oh, thank the gods,” Beau said, breathing a sigh of relief as they arrived. She pointed down at the mangled wheat. “You guys, the ground just _ate_ someone.”

Caduceus shrugged. “It happens.”

“No, I mean—”

“It’s perfectly natural, you know. That’s how soil gets fertile, I’m surprised you didn’t already know that.

As Beau groaned and threw her hands into the air, muttering something under her breath about _clueless hippies, can’t read a situation_ —Yasha sighed.

“Not like that,” she said, tapping the grain. “It was more like…like the earth opened up and swallowed him whole. He was just standing here a moment ago, but then he collapsed and vanished.”

Nott didn’t miss a beat. She practically achieved liftoff in her panicked attempt to get as far away from the ground as she could. She leapt up and latched onto the tallest thing she could find, which happened to be Caduceus.  

He took this in stride. She clung to the back of his armor like a panicked koala.

“What the _fuck_?!” she screeched. “ _What_?”

“Like I said,” Beau grumbled. “Creepy.”

“Did that happen when the sky ripped open?” Nott demanded. “Are we going to die now? Is the earth gonna eat all of us?”

“Yes,” Caduceus said. “Eventually.”

“Gods above,” rolled her eyes. “Now really isn’t the time, man—”

“Wait, wait, _hang_ on,” Yasha blinked. “You said…when the sky did _what_?”

“When it ripped open.” Nott raised an eyebrow. “What, did you _miss_ that, or something?”

“We were kind of too busy to notice,” Beau groused. “We were dealing with a _disappearing farmer_.”

“Now, now,” Caduceus said, “no need for that.”

She sagged. “Sorry. It’s just been a _weird_ morning.”

“Max is definitely something I do not want to leave behind,” Yasha murmured, “but if you two were experiencing weird things also, then maybe we should find the others? What if something happened near them? What if they are in danger, now?”

“Shit,” Nott said instantly. “Shit, you’re _right_. They’re with _Caleb_ now too, that can’t be good.”

Yasha and Beau both stood up. They wiped the dirt off their pants.

“Come on, then,” Beau said, gesturing back towards the village. “Let’s go. And let’s _hurry_.”

\-----------------------

They all sprinted into view just as Jester was helping Bren off her shoulders at the edge of the dirt road leading to his home. Caduceus was completely out of breath from the effort, and considering how they’d all practically been in a horror movie for the last ten minutes, the rest didn’t really feel better.

“There you are,” said Yasha, hurrying towards them. “Good, we were worried about you.”

“Worried?” Jester asked. “Why were you worried?”

“Did you guys miss it too?” Beau asked, catching up. “Did you see it?”

Fjord gave a sigh. “You’re gonna have to slow down, and back up. _What_ is it, and why are you freaking out? What’s wrong?”

“The sky was wounded,” Caduceus murmured. He was looked down at Caleb, now. “A large hole opened up right above us, and Beau and Yasha believe a man was eaten alive by the grass.”

“Wheat,” said Yasha. “But, er, yes.”

Fjord, Jester, and Bren just stared. Then slowly, as one, they turned to Beau for an explanation.

“It sounds fuckin’ insane,” Beau said, “but that’s exactly what happened.”

“It was very sudden,” Yasha added. “We did not even notice the sky in the time it took Max to be swallowed—"

“Who’s that?” Bren asked.

They all turned to look at him.

Beau raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Bren’s curiosity faltered under her intense stare. “Um…” he said, “…um…I just wanted to know who Max is. Herr Fjord was talking about him earlier, is all. Is he new to town?”

“What are you talking about?” Beau frowned. “How do you _not_ know who Max is?”

Bren shifted his stance nervously. “I, um, sorry,” he said. “Should… _should_ I know him?” he asked.

“Max has lived here his whole life,” Yasha said. “You said that you know everyone.”

“I do!” Bren nodded immediately. “I do, but I don’t know him.”

“Hey,” said Fjord slowly, not looking away from Bren, “hey, Beau, before Max disappeared, is there any chance that you were asking him a bunch of questions?”

“Not really,” she shrugged. “It was mostly just the one.”

“But over and over again,” Yasha supplied.

“Ah,” said Jester, catching on. “Ah. Oh. Oh, no.”

Fjord turned to Bren. “Kid, are you _sure_ you don’t remember Max?”

“No,” the little boy fidgeted again. “No, I am sorry.”

Jester patted him on the head. “It’s okay,” she said quickly, “don’t worry, it’s alright.”

Yasha gazed down at Bren from her towering height. “Ca—child,” she amended, “child, do you know a girl in this town by the name of ‘Charlotte’?”

“ _Ja_ , I do!” Bren brightened immediately. “I play with her all the time.”

“And do you know someone named Emilia?” Beau asked. “Or another girl called Lena?”

He nodded again. “Those three are sisters. Emilia is old now, and doesn’t spend time with us anymore. Lena is still too little to play.”

“You know them well?” Yasha asked. “Are you friends with them?”

“I think so?” Bren shrugged. “I’m friends with everybody, I think.”

Beau and Yasha quickly exchanged glances. Then Beau knelt down, so that they were face-to-face.

“Bren?” she asked slowly. “Bren, what’s their dad’s name?”

The little boy opened his mouth to answer. And then he paused. And then he closed it, and frowned.

“Their…their…their mama is Clara,” he mumbled

Beau shook her head. “Their _dad_ ,” she said. “What about _him_?”

Bren’s expression went troubled.

“Their…their dad?”

“Yes,” Yasha murmured, “what is _his_ name?”

“I don’t…I…they don’t _have_ a dad.” Bren glanced up, eyes utterly confused. “I mean…I would know, right? I…I think I’ve met him before…”

“It’s Max,” Beau crossed her arms. “Come on, Caleb, connect the dots.”

“Who’s…I’m…but I don’t know a Max,” Bren murmured. “Max…doesn’t exist?”

He blinked. His puzzlement was wavering now, flickering, twisting into something scared, something confused and small and helpless and instantly, horrifyingly, recognizable to two. Jester and Fjord lunged forward to catch him just as Bren collapsed to the ground.

And then there was that dissonance again, that same ear-splitting chord streaking through the air. Nott and Caduceus both looked, expectant, grim with confirmation as above their heads, another terrible, inky void ripped across the sky, cut through the sunlight and tore apart the clouds.

The others looked up, their eyes went wide, Bren balked and gasped, “What is _that_?!”

“Oh, fuck _me_ ,” Fjord muttered, “ _fuck,_ you all…you weren’t kidding, huh?”

Beau watched Bren clutching at his head. Realization reared its ugly head.

“We’re poking holes in the world,” she breathed. “That must be what’s causing it.”

“But what do we _do_?” Nott looked around wildly. “What does that mean? How do we _fix_ it?”

“I don’t know!” Jester stared at Bren, “I don’t, I think maybe—"

The door to the Ermendrud cottage burst open.

Two figures appeared on the front steps. It was Leofric and Uma, the mother and father, who immediately strode down the path and right up to where the Mighty Nein knelt by Bren.

“Ah,” said his mother, coming to a halt. “Good, you have brought him home.”

“Thank you,” said his father. “Just in time for lunch.”

“Let’s eat quickly,” said his mother.

“So you can go back to enjoying the day,” said his father.

The group all stared at them. And then slowly, their gazes were drawn upwards, to the bright and sunny sky above.

There were a few fluffy clouds. A bird. Nothing else.

“What the shit?” asked Beau.

Jester blinked. “It’s…fixed?”

“Come on,” said his mother, helping up her son. “Say goodbye to your friends, now.”

“We made your favorite food,” his father added. “You must be exhausted, after all your magic, today.”

Bren nodded. And though he was still seemed a bit nervous, he seemed absolutely relieved by the sight of his parents. He turned to the Nein with a tentative smile.

“Thank you, um, for teaching me today,” he said. “It was pretty fun before…before all the weird stuff started happening.”

His mother offered her hand, and Bren took it.

“It was nice seeing you all once more,” she said, turning to address the group.

“Please, feel free to come back tomorrow,” his father said.

“Hang on, hang on, wait,” Beau frowned. “You can’t just… _take_ him away. We were in the middle of something! Not to mention that, that the…the sky was _broken_ before! Why aren’t we talking about _that_?”

“About what?” said his mother.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said his father.

“Nothing happened, up there,” said his mother. “Look. It’s perfect.”

“Something, um, something _was_ wrong,” Bren said hesitantly. “I don’ know what it was, but…it was a little scary.”

His mother gave him a pleasant smile. “Don’t be afraid,” she said. “We’re here now.”

“Will…will it happen again?” Bren asked.

 “Of course not,” his father said.

“What an imagination you have,” his mother added, and gently tugged him forwards. “Come on, now. Time to go home.”

 

Bren opened his mouth to say something, maybe argue, but his father gave him a rather stern look.

“Listen to your mother now,” he warned.

“You wouldn’t want to disappoint us, would you?”

They both said that in unison. Bren’s hand went limp.

“No,” he mumbled, dropping his chin. “No, _entschuldigung_.”

His parents nodded. And without saying another word, they turned around, Bren in tow, and began to walk away.

Fjord immediately looked back at the others, eyes wide, mouthing: _someone, do something!_

“On it,” Beau whispered.

And before anybody could even begin to stop her, before anyone could realize, or react, or hold her back, Beauregard took six steps forward and wound her arm back and threw her weight into motion and decked Mrs. Ermendrud in the back of the head with a _thunk_ of her knuckles and a terrible _crack_ of someone’s skull.

The woman went out like a light. Of course she did. Her hand released Bren and she hit the ground like a broken doll.

Many things happened, after that.

“What the _fuck_ , Beau?! Why did you _do_ that?!”

“What?! _What_?! You didn’t want that?!”

“No, _godsdammit_! I just, fucking hell, I thought you were just going to _say something_!”

“What was there to say? He was being kidnapped!”

“That’s his _mother_!”

“Why _punch_ her?!”

“Come on, wasn’t that creepy?!” Beau threw her hands in the air. “That was the spookiest shit I’ve ever seen! There’s _no way_ that could have ended well! And, besides, this isn’t even real!”

“It’s real to _Caleb!_ ” said Jester frantically. “And now, now…”

The two remaining Ermendruds were crouched in the grass, kneeling over the fallen mother. Bren’s father had a hand on his shoulder, and Bren’s entire body was shaking.

For a moment, a heavy silence.

And then, Bren whirled around. He met their eyes. His face spoke of terror, and anger, and confusion, and betrayal.

“Why did you _do_ that?” he hissed. “You _attacked_ Mama!”

His father pressed his son guardedly close. “All of you, leave this place,” he demanded. His expression was almost as grim as his son’s. “Leave us, leave _now._ ”

“Please,” said Nott, stepping forward, “please, we didn’t mean—”

Bren instantly screamed. He scrambled backwards, face now terrified, trying to get as far away as possible. “A goblin!” he shrieked. “It’s a goblin, it’s a goblin, Papa, help me, get it away!”

His father slowly rose to his feet, putting his son behind him, raising his hands—

“I-I didn’t—” Nott stammered, “wait, I’m not—”

She couldn’t move. She could barely speak. Something in her mind was shouting at her to run, screaming to go hide, _begging_ to get away, but, for some reason, all she really felt was numb. Frozen. Drowning, in crisp air.

The others closed in, blocking her from view.

“She’s friendly,” Jester cried, words tumbling in a rush, “just, just give us a second to expl—“

“Get out,” his father yelled. “Get…get _out_! Get out, go _away_!”

“How upset _we’ve_ made him?” Beau yelled back. “It’s not fucking us! It’s this stupid, fucking world! Everything in here is fucked up and weird and it’s not even real! It’s not _real!_ Wake up!” She shouted that last phrase at Bren.

“I know she’s yelling,” Caduceus tried for soothing, “but Caleb, please, you _must_ know that something’s wrong.”

“Think of Max,” Yasha added.

“Think of the _sky_!” said Fjord.

“And us too,” Jester pleaded, “remember _us_. Come on, come on, you _must_ know who we a—”

But the boy just shook her head, crying even harder, the tears streaming down his face. “I don’t…I don’t understand what’s happening!” he sobbed. “I don’t, I don’t—Papa, _do_ something!”

Leofric Ermendrud held his son close. His dark eyes bore into the frantic group, watching them carefully take another step forward.

He looked back at Bren.

And then he did something very odd.

“ _Vertraust du mir_?” he murmured.

Bren nodded back frantically. His friends—not friends yet—were closing in fast.

Leofric smiled. He tucked some of Bren’s hair back. Then he crouched down, gave a nod, and pressed a kiss to his son’s forehead. As he pulled back, he was studying the boy’s face intently.

Bren’s brow slowly furrowed with confusion. Then his eyes began to flutter. And his breathing slowed. And then, suddenly, out of nowhere, his head sagged low and his shoulders sagged lower and he slumped down heavy into his father’s arms.

And then, as one, the Mighty Nein stopped.

They felt weightless, and untethered.

And then everything went dark.

\-----------------------

Fjord opened his eyes.

His vision was blurry, his head hurt, but he managed to struggle into a seated position. Then he groaned, and rubbed his face with his sleeve.

Then he paused.

He looked down.

This was not his usual armor.

In fact, it wasn’t armor at all; instead, it was some kind of long, flowing robe colored a pristine and ivory-white, trimmed at the edges with deep, dark blue. The bed he was resting on too was completely foreign, the sheets were some kind of thick, indigo fabric, luxurious to the touch, and much, much, much more refined than anything Fjord had ever seen in his life.

“Well,” said a slow, low voice across the room. “I’ll admit it. This is weird.”

His gaze snapped up. Across this small room—similarly decorated with rich blues and purples, walls of dark wood and warmly carpeted floors—was another bed.

Atop it, a figure also dressed in loose ivory and blue.

“Hey there, Fjord,” said the outline of Caduceus Clay. “Have you, uh, have you got any idea what’s going on, here?”

Fjord rubbed his eyes once more. When the world failed to make more sense, he slowly shook his head.

“Well, that’s alright. I figured I’d ask, just in case.”

Fjord looked around. He considered his new clothes.

“Caduceus?”

“Yeah?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Alright, what the _fuck_?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh BOY this story is getting WILD. Can y'all tell that I'm literally writing each chapter as I go, and I barely know where the plot is heading? This fuckin tale has taken on a life of its own, it's way longer than I thought it would be, and I'm barely steering anymore, kids. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I hope things are still making sense, and I'm really glad you guys are continuing to follow along despite how crazy things are getting. As always, Comments and Kudos keep me going, and help me improve my writing! Feel free to hit me up [@sockablock](https://www.sockablock.tumblr.com) on Tumblr too!
> 
> Love you all! <3333


	5. Wrestling the Current

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 5! Featuring detective work, lots of exposition, and the good old days of academia

After taking a few deep breaths to calm down, Fjord got out of bed and glanced around. This strange new room was actually rather small, its smooth stone walls forming a tight circle all around. The indigo carpet beneath his feet filled the floor, and depicted a large, gold, eight-pointed star. To his left, was a long bureau and three shelves, to his right were two desks set under an open window. Past that was another bed, another dresser, mirroring his side of the room. A flickering blue light coming from above, on the wall sconces, illuminated the only other occupant here: Caduceus Clay, looking annoying unbothered.

Fjord elected to ignore him for now, and instead made his way to the bookshelves. They were crammed thick, faded, cracking tomes, none of which were in Common, or helpful at the moment. He decided to examine the drawers next, throwing them open and then sifting through the robes inside.

“Let me know if you find anything green or pink,” Caduceus called. “White clashes with my fur.”

“How can you think of that at a time like this?” Fjord sighed.

“You’re the one looking through that dresser,” came the reply.

Fjord rolled his eyes, and pushed aside some more fabric. “I’m _searching_ for clues,” he said. “Something that’ll give us even a _hint_ at where we are. How come you aren’t more worried, Cad? We’re in a weird place, surrounded by weird shit.”

“That seems pretty standard for us, doesn’t it?”

There was a brief pause, and then Fjord sighed again. “Alright, alright, point taken,” he said. “Hey, would you mind looking through those desks? Check if there’s anything interesting in there, but watch out in case it’s trapped.”

“Sure.” Then came the sound of rustling blankets. “But why don’t we leave, if you’re so worried? There’s an exit right behind you.”

“I want to know more about this room first,” Fjord said. “Just in case it’s dangerous outside.”

“I don’t think it can be _that_ dangerous.”

“Really?” He turned and raised an eyebrow. “What makes you say that?”

Caduceus shrugged. “Because Nott and Jester. I can hear them shouting and coming up some stairs—"

The door flew open, revealing—to only Fjord’s surprise—a little blue tiefling and a littler goblin girl.

“Alright, hands where I can—oh.”

Nott lowered her candlestick.

“Oh, it’s just you.”

“Hi,” Jester added, leaning against the doorframe. “Good…to see…that you’re…okay.”

Their faces were slightly flushed from running, breath unsteady but beginning to even out. Both of them were dressed in rich, fine robes, ivory-white with a gleaming blue trim.

“Like it?” Jester grinned, noticing Fjord’s gaze. “Not _really_ my style, but it’s really soft.”

“You’re making it work,” Nott reassured her. “It’s actually a pretty good cut on you.”

“You should wear a high collar more often,” Caduceus added. “It makes you seem commanding.”

“Oh, is that so?” Jester straightened up, and pretended to look sinister. “Listen up, maggots, you’ve got five minutes—”

Fjord pinched the bridge of his nose. He sat down on one of the desk stools.

“Alright, alright, time to back up. _Where_ did you come from, and what’s going on?”

“Calm down,” said Nott, waving her makeshift weapon. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“Dramatic?” Fjord spluttered. “You’re calling me _dramatic_? Ten minutes ago, we were in Caleb’s childhood home. Apparently the floor fuckin’ _ate_ a guy and sky ripped open and started screaming!”

“You’d know all about weird eating, wouldn’t you?” Nott asked cheerfully. “Mr. I-swallow-swords-for-a-liv—”

“Knock it off,” he scowled. “ _You_ ate a kid.”

“Hey! That was an _accident_ , I told you that in confidence—”

“You did what?” Caduceus blinked.

Nott opened her mouth, almost answered. And then she hesitated, and shook her head. “Not important,” she huffed. “We can deal with that later, Right now, what we need to focus on is where we are.”

“No kidding,” said Fjord, “and _where_ would that be?”

Jester flounced onto the bed. The springs bounced along with her weight.

“The same place as before, silly! This is still the Plane of Dreams,” she said. “Only _now_ , I’m pretty sure that we’re in a different _part_ of the dream.”

“A different part?” Fjord raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean? How?”

“We- _ell_ , that’s a bit complicated,” Jester gave a sheepish smile. “I, um, I’m not totally sure.”

“You’re _not_?”

“Hey, don’t yell at her!” Nott snapped. “Are _you_ an expert on planar magic?”

Fjord raised his palms. He quickly shook his head. “Sorry, sorry,” he said. “This is just… _gods_ , I’m confused.”

“Me too,” Jester admitted. She rubbed her thighs, and gave this some thought.

“I think…” she said slowly, “okay, this is just a _theory_ , but I think…I think that because of all that crazy stuff, you know, earlier, all that spooky shit—”

Fjord gave a shudder. “Yeah, I remember.”

“—right, well, I think _maybe_ …it broke the dream. Or the world, or the plot, or _whatever’s_ going on. But after everything happened, the dream couldn’t keep itself together, anymore. So in order to fix that, it…re-made itself? It change the world into something else. And…that’s where we are. _Wherever_ we are.”

“But _how_?” Nott asked. “How can it do that?”

Jester sighed. “I’m not completely sure. The Traveler would know more about this than me, I just _brought_ us here, I don’t—”

“It’s squishy.”

They all paused. They turned to Caduceus, who in the interim had taken a seat on the desk. His robes were short on him, only reached his knees.

“What?” Fjord asked. “What’s… _squishy_?”

He nodded sagely. “Right,” he said, “squishy. Like that.”

Nott gave a sigh. “Mister Clay, you’ll need to _explain_.”

Caduceus made a rumbling sound, that could’ve been laugher. “Right,” he dipped his head, “sure. But it’s not that complicated, it’s just that dreams are…squishy. Mushy. You know, easy to change.” He gestured around their new surroundings. “You’ve felt it before, right, when you’re dreaming and all of a sudden you’re somewhere else? Sometimes things randomly appear, and sometimes the whole premise of the dream changes?”

“Sure,” Fjord nodded. “Yeah, I get that.”

“Then it’s like that,” Caduceus said. “I think, maybe, earlier, we made Caleb so upset that his subconscious decided to flip things around. To take us, like Miss Jester said, to a completely different dream. As a…defense mechanism, maybe.”

Nott rubbed her chin. “That…that _would_ make sense. But…what does that mean for us, now? Do we have to find him again? And…and when we do, will he remember…all of that?”

“Plus, we still don’t know how to wake him,” Fjord mumbled. “All we’ve really learned, is that everything in this world is unstable. And if we fuck up, it’ll hurt Caleb.”

Jester sighed loudly, but then tried to look cheerful. “Hey, hey, it’ll be alright,” she said firmly. “Why don’t we concentrate on one thing at a time? We’re missing two people,” she said, pointing at the other members of the group. “We need to find Beau and Yasha, before we try to make other plans.”

“That’s a good point,” Fjord conceded. “You didn’t see them, on the way up?”

“Down,” Nott corrected, “and yours was the first door we saw. Maybe they’re farther down?”

“Could be up,” Caduceus added. “That’s also another direction to take.”

“Well, then, we should get started, right?” Jester’s face brightened up with new vigor. “They’ve got to be around here _somewhere,_ right?”

Fjord gestured to the open door. “Right,” he agreed. “Absolutely. Let’s, uh…yeah, gods, let’s go find them, I guess. Wherever they—wherever _we_ are.”

\-----------------------

“Nott, are you okay?” Jester’s whisper scraped the silent walls of the stone stairwell. Fjord and Caduceus were at the lead, before them, keeping an eye out for signs of trouble.

“What do you mean?” Nott whispered back. “What makes you think I’m not?”

“Well, um, you know…” Jester scratched her neck. “I mean…you know, there was that time. Earlier. When, um, when Caleb saw you.”

Nott’s gait faltered, but she rallied magnificently. “Oh, _that_?” she scoffed. “Don’t worry about that. That wasn’t anything I haven’t seen before.”

“It was different, though,” Jester pressed softly. “It wasn’t a stranger. It was _Caleb_.”

“Not really,” Nott muttered. “I mean, yes and no, but…that was little baby Caleb. He _was_ a stranger. And gods, his name wasn’t even Caleb, yet.”

“I kept accidentally trying to call him that.”

Nott managed a faint smile. “Yeah, me too. He just _seems_ like a Caleb, you know?”

They descended a couple more stairs, and Jester hummed.

“Just tell me if you want to talk about it, okay? I’m always here for you, Nott. Whenever you want.”

Nott glanced over her shoulder.

“Same goes for you, Jes. You sounded pretty worried in that old dream, too.”

“ _Me_? Worried?” Jester gave a quick laugh. “Of course I’m worried, my friend was hurting. And it was especially bad because baby-Caleb is _so_ cute.”

“More so than usual,” Nott said, “like… _super-_ worried.”

“I’m _always_ super-worried about you all. I’m a cleric,” she huffed, “it’s my job. Remember when Beau almost got dissolved by a troll? Or when Fjord stubbed his toe and then it caught fire? That was super-duper worrying.”

Nott raised an eyebrow. She did not lower it until another set of stairs had gone by.

“Okay, okay, _fine_ ,” Jester relented. “Fine, alright, I _was_ panicking, a little. I just miss normal Caleb, you know? And this dream world isn’t what I thought it would be at _all_. I thought there would be, you know, rainbows and cookies and unicorns and things all over the place! Not…not all these things that make me sad and worried about our friend and the rest of us.”

“It _is_ spooky,” Nott agreed quietly. “And every time I saw baby-Caleb smile, it just made me even sadder for _our_ version.”

“Me too,” Jester murmured. “I just wonder _why_ —”

She stopped walking right before running smack into Caduceus’s back. Nott skidded to a halt beside her.

“What is it?” she hissed. “What’s wrong, now? Fjord, your butt is so big I can’t see anything.”

As he spun around, spluttering indignantly, Caduceus turned tapped a finger against a large door.

“We’re at the end,” he said. “Should I open it?”

Fjord gave Nott one last glare, which she returned heartily. Then he just sighed, and nodded to Cad. “But do it carefully,” he added, gesturing slow. “We don’t know what’s on the other side.”

“Right.”

Caduceus pressed his palm to the handle. Pushed it down slowly, felt the iron give—

The door swung open, hinges oiled, silent-smooth.

A long, long corridor stretched out before them, running off almost endless in the distance. All the walls around where made of stone, nearly miles high, curving upwards in impossible heights. A soft, purple glow spilled down from metal sconces set into the ceiling high above, which was good because it also helped the group notice, and stop, and see and stare at the practically _thousands_ of paintings that flooded the miles of space along these walls. Some depicted humanoids, some animals, others landscapes, some showed painstakingly realistic furniture and fruit. Still more were displayed fanciful explosions of color, some were somber portraits, some glittering frames seemed empty. And next to these paintings, even stranger still, were dozens upon dozens of enormous hanging banners, most showing an eight-pointed star in gold; though there were some other patterns they couldn’t recognize. Each one hung proud above a solid door, of rich oak wood with silver filigree that practically sang of refinement and class.

Indeed, this entire corridor was humbling, though that was offset by one important factor.

The whole length of the hallway was empty.

Dust danced under torchlight. The air here was still.

“It’s…I mean…it’s pretty,” Jester whispered, eventually. “Kind of creepy, but also pretty.”

“Maybe everyone’s on vacation?” Nott murmured.

“Who’s everyone?” Fjord asked. “Where _are_ we?”

“Maybe we should move on,” Caduceus suggested. “But, ah…slowly.”

Their first steps were very tentative. Their shoes tapped against the silent tile. But when nothing happened, no traps sprung or alarms rung, the group, emboldened, walked with some more confidence.

“What do you suppose this place is?” Nott asked. “Some kind of castle?”

“It looks like it,” Fjord whispered. “It looks like something right out of a book.”

“Oooh, do you think there are _princesses_?” Jester gushed. “Maybe in this world, Caleb’s a daring _knight_!”

“ _Our_ Caleb?” Fjord snorted. “You think?”

“Well, it’s a dream, right?” Nott shrugged. “He can be whatever he wants.”

Caduceus gave a chuckle. “I don’t think he’d _want_ to be a knight. He seems more like the secluded wizard ty—”

He was cut off, by the sudden ring of a mighty bell.

The group instantly drew in together, scrambled to hide around a stone pillar.

And then there was a second chime, and then another, and another, and another, eleven in a row, and then without missing a beat, every door in the hall burst open and within seconds, every inch of the corridor was flooded. Thousands upon thousands of moving robed figures swirled around in different directions, pushed and pulled with the ebb of the crowd, creating the illusion of a sea wrestling its own current, massive waves forging paths all of their own.

There were two things to note about this crowd.

Firstly, they did not wear the traditional, dark hoods typically expected of unknown and dangerous strangers. Instead, they all sported the same white fabrics worn by the current Mighty Nein members present, though their outfits all had different trims—there were the deep blues, yes, but also crimson, also green and yellow and orange and even purple and—though, gone in a second—one brief flash of a shining, smooth gold.

Secondly, all but a few, looked very young. The most childish faces couldn’t have been more than thirteen, ducking under their taller peers and weaving through an ocean of legs. The oldest faces were likely just verging on their twenties, and carried an air about them that suggested a sort of casual, reassured confidence, the posture of someone who _knew_ they’d done it all.

And, well, there was actually a third thing. It was a shape, bobbing its head over the mob, moving slowly towards the pillar of the Nein, periodically coming up for air and screaming very loudly as it did.

“Hey! Hey, you assholes, hey!”

This was followed by a string of muffled swearing that sounded acutely familiar to them all.

“Beau?” Fjord shouted back. “Beau, is that you?”

Her head reared up past a group of startled figures. “It’s me!” she hollered. “Hang on, don’t move, hang on, just… _gods_ , gimme a sec!”

A few moments later, she broke through the crowd, hair disheveled, face slightly flushed. But her expression was one of relief.

“Thank the gods,” she said, and brushed herself off. “Jeez, I was almost worried about you pricks.”

“Nice to see you too,” Caduceus nodded. “How’ve you been?”

“Where were you?” Fjord asked. “And…and why are you _dressed_ like that?”

Beau raised an eyebrow, and then glanced down. She was still wearing the blue vestments she always did, loosely draped around her lithe frame.

“What are you talking about?” she asked. “I look completely normal. Why are _you_ dressed like _that_?”

“We think it’s a uniform,” Nott volunteered. “At least, from what we can tell.”

“Yeah, duh,” Beau rolled her eyes. “That much is obvious, why are _you_ wearing it?”

“Hang on, hang on,” Fjord raised a hand. “How do you know it’s so obvious? What sort of uniform are you talking?”

Beau gaped a him. “What? You mean you don’t _know_?”

“I usually don’t,” Caduceus rumbled. “If you have an explanation, that would be rather nice.”

“I’d like to know too,” Jester piped up. “If, of course, you don’t mind.”

Beau blinked. “Yeah, yeah, I mean…sure, it’s just…this is still the Plane of Dreams, yeah?”

“Yep!”

“Yeah,” Nott sighed.

“Well then,” Beau shrugged, “I think I’m right in figuring that we’re still swimming through Caleb’s memories. And if this is any indication—” she gestured to a throng of chattering students walking by, “—we’ve landed in the teen years, now.”

“So?” Fjord raised an eyebrow. “What does that _mean_? Where is this palce?”

Beau gave a snort. She thrust her finger at some banners, gleaming and bright and practically covered in arcane symbols.

“Welcome to Soltryce Academy,” she said.

\-----------------------

In the stunned silence that followed, Jester elbowed Fjord.

“Hey,” she said. “Look, you finally made it in.”

\-----------------------

“It _guess_ it makes sense,” Fjord mused, eventually. “I mean, he did tell us that he went here.”

“It’s just so strange to associate him with this place.” Jester pointed to some of the nicer paintings. “I mean, at first, he didn’t even want to _bathe_.”

“I wonder what he was like back in these days,” Caduceus rumbled. “Has he gotten any taller?”

“I’d hope so,” Beau snorted. “If this is Soltryce, he’s probably twelve or older. It’s been a couple years between memories.”

It was a few minutes later now, and the gang had successfully chased a group of students out from under a window. Now they were resting comfortably on the sill, seated on the warm stone outcropping together with the sunlight gently settling on their shoulders. Groups of other students milled past, the flood from before having slowed into a gentle trickle.

“So, what can we expect now?” Fjord asked, nodding at the slow pace of academia. “A kid is straightforward, but what’s he got going _now_? And, uh…” he seemed slightly uncomfortable, glanced around the corridor with care. “How, um…how long are we talking. You know, before…the big event. The bad one.”

“Oh, shoot,” Jester murmured. “Gods, I totally forgot about that.”

Beau leaned against the glass panes. Behind her back, a few stories down, the city streets of Rexxentrum were alive with activity.

“A few more years,” she said, too nonchalantly. “I don’t think we gotta worry about that…now.”

“What _exactly_ happened again?” Fjord asked. “I mean, we got the bare-bones stuff, but…do we need to watch out for him? Is he going to be…is he _okay_?”

“This is still Soltryce,” Nott said slowly. “I think, for now…he’ll be alright.”

“I don’t think we need to get into the nitty-gritty,” Beau added, closing her eyes. “Shit happened with a teacher, further down the line. He was a big prodigy. He got picked for a special program.”

“Voll-something,” Jester remembered. “That shadowy business, right?”

“Right,” Nott shivered. “Dark stuff.”

They considered the sunshine pouring in through the windows. The tapestries on the walls gleamed vibrant, and alive.

Jester’s gaze fell. “It’s hard to imagine something like that coming from a place as pretty as this. Or happening to a boy as happy as he was.”

“The world is shit sometimes,” Beau mumbled. “We can’t change it. And remember…this isn’t real.”

“Though we _should_ still try to find him,” Caduceus rumbled. “Him, and also—”

“Oh, gods, _Yasha_!” Fjord groaned. “Shit, I _completely_ forgot about her. Where the _heck_ is she, anyways? You’d think she’d be easy to find, since she’s seven feet tall and carries a greatsword.”

“And exudes an aura of gothic mystery,” Nott added.

“Sure,” he agreed, after a pause. “Yeah, okay, that too, I guess.”

“We can keep an eye out for them both,” Beau said. “It’s a big school, it’ll probably take a while to search through.”

“Should we split up, then?” Jester asked.

Fjord shook his head. “I’d rather not. Last time that didn’t work so well, and if weird shit starts happening, I think all of us should face it together.”

“I like that plan,” Caduceus nodded. “Last time was…bad.”

“It was super-awful,” Nott said. “Like… _super-_ awful.”

Fjord ran a hand through his hair. “Alright, then. Glad we’re on the same page. Now, uh, does anybody have any idea of where to start? Like you said, Beau, this place seems…pretty huge.”

“We should also be careful,” Caduceus added. “I don’t really know much about…about _schools,_ but I’m getting a general feeling that if we went somewhere off-limits, it wouldn’t end well.”

“If this place could turn Caleb all…dark, I’ll believe that,” Jester nodded.

“Let’s just…pick a direction or something,” Fjord said. “We’ll head that way together, and keep our eyes peeled for Yasha. And for, fuck, for _teenage_ Caleb? Gods what’re we gonna do when we find him?”

“Last time, I thought he’d wake up if he realized this was a dream,” Beau shrugged. “It didn’t work so well, but we could try again. Maybe I really _should_ hit him, then.”

“Okay,” said Fjord, voice slightly strained, “again, I don’t think hittin’ a kid—”

“—teenager—”

“—would be the best course of action,” he finished weakly.

“Do you think Caleb will _remember_ us?” Nott asked. “I mean, it would be great if he remembered the _real_ us’, as in, you know, as in the Mighty Nein, but…do you think there’s any chance that _this_ version would know us instead as the strangers that invaded his childhood home? The ones that broke the sky and beat up his mom?”

They all turned to Jester.

“Don’t look at me,” she raised her hands. “ _I_ don’t know.”

“You’re _the_ Cleric,” Nott said. “Don’t you have any guesses?”

“Nope. This is a guess-free-zone.”

Fjord rubbed his face. “We can only hope for the best then,” he sighed. “Otherwise, that’s more trouble we don’t need.”

“I mean, let’s be realistic,” said Beau. “How many of us even _remember_ when we were nine, anyways. I bet even if he _could_ remember it, he’s forgotten.”

They paused to consider this. Then Jester shrugged.

“I remember it pretty well, actually.”

“Me too,” Fjord grimaced. “It wasn’t great.”

“Do you mean the _first_ time I was nine?” Nott asked, tapping her chin. “Because technically, I might not even be that old, yet.”

“I’m probably around ninety?” Caduceus volunteered. “Somewhere in that range, anyways. Does that help?”

There was another moment, longer this time. Caduceus blinked peacefully and watched the complicated expressions flicker across his friends’ faces.

“Well okay then,” Fjord said eventually, sliding off the stone ledge. “I think that’s our cue to move along and pray for the best, yeah?”

“Er…yeah,” Beau said, getting up after him. “I think that’s probably a good idea.”

“I hope we find them soon,” Nott sighed. “I’m tired of running around on this weird plane. I mean, it’s been a couple days in here already, right?”

“Sort of,” Jester said. “For us, it has, but on the outside it’s really only been…whatever the number of a couple days’ worth of hours times six seconds, is.”

“Probably about seven minutes,” Beau said.

They all stared at her in shock. Except for Caduceus, who stared at a leaf tumbling past, outside.

“That was…that was some fast math,” Fjord blinked.

“ _Wow_ ,” Jester agreed.

“Caleb probably could’ve done it faster. But, uh, it was impressive,” Nott added.

Beau waved her hand dismissively. She could feel her cheeks starting to redden. “Forget I said anything,” she muttered, turning away. “I was forced to do a lot of numbers as a kid. It’s stupid. Time is meaningless, anyways.”

“She has a point,” Caduceus nodded. “It’s just a small detail, in the end.”

Nott scowled. “You’re literally the oldest living thing in the world. You opinion doesn’t matter right now.”

“Actually, there are trees that—"

Fjord groaned loudly and sighed. “Can we just…can we just get a move on, now?” he begged. “Right now, y’all are either making me age faster, or cutting the years off the end of my lifespan.”

Jester gave him a sympathetic pat on the arm. “Sorry, Oskar. But if it helps, older guys can be cute too.”

He immediately turned around and began walking in a random direction.

“See you all,” he called, “don’t worry ‘bout catchin’ up.”

The rest exchanged glances. And after a couple smirks, a few giggles, and one particular oblivious mask of tranquility, the other members of the Nein scurried down the hall and arrived at his side just in time to see a short tan girl with cropped brown hair skid to a halt in front of them.

She immediately waved at Beau, giving the monk an absolutely delighted smile. Her pristine ivory sleeve had a deep emerald trim.

“Expositor!” she beamed. “ _Guten Tag_ , hello, I am so sorry to have lost you in the crowd!”

She took one step closer and extended a thin, leather book. “Please, follow me? Master Colling says that she is ready now and would not like to delay. If, of course, that is alright.”

Beau paused. She blinked. She looked at the others, who gave confused shrugs.

She turned back to the girl.

“Uh…right,” she said. “Right, of course! Colling, yes, uh…sure?”

The girl gave another smile and gestured behind her. “Follow then, _ja_? It should not take more than an hour. Master Colling says that today is only the introduction.”

Beau blinked again. She desperately to think of something to say, and then sighed. She glanced back towards her friends.

“Meet me here in an hour,” she whispered, “on the dot. And if I don’t come back, uh…just cast Message or something, okay?”

“Got it,” Jester whispered. “We’ll, um…be safe?”

“Right. Find Yash. Right!” she declared, this last part to the girl. “Right, of course, lead on, young student.”

“Excellent,” she bobbed her head, “right this way.”

And then she took off down the hall, Beau trailing, still bewildered, right behind her. Eventually, the two of them turned a corner and vanished from view down the long and distant corridor.

The Mighty Nein watched them go. Confusion still churning, now slightly more alone.

“Well,” Fjord muttered, eventually. “Well, that’s…that’s probably fine, right?”

“Sure.” Jester tried. “Sure, yeah, definitely. Probably.”

Nott grimaced. “I hate it when you say that,” she mumbled. “Now I know for sure that things are gonna be _shit_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry this chapter is so short and it took so long to get out! School is wild, and I'm still working out the plot of this damn story, but needless to say I will keep doing my best to be semi-weekly in my updates!  
> In the meantime, comments and kudos keep me going, and if you ever want to talk, or shout at me about critical role, hit me up [@sockablock](https://www.sockablock.tumblr.com) on Tumblr!


	6. A Silhouette in the Smog

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's update is brought to you by: diving into slightly darker-ish themes, the beginning of the end, the secret beneath soltryce, terrible education systems, and keeping my roommate awake with my keyboard
> 
>  **Warning!!!:** in this chapter, the Mighty Nein make the morally questionable choice to sort-of-kidnap someone. It's not graphic or intense or even that long a scene, but if you'd like to avoid it, stop at "Astrid, moving quickly" and resume at "Anyways, Jester, I think I see Caleb!"

“Is this your first time at the academy, Expositor?”

“What? Oh, yeah. Yeah, I just…damn, I didn’t expect it to be _this_ fancy.”

The young girl gave a faint laugh, then ducked around some other students.

“Well, our founders spared no expense. Education is the foundation of a strong nation, after all.”

“Is it? Uh…I mean yeah, sure.”

Beau followed her guide down another corridor, the two of them slipping past clusters of the Empire’s Finest Young Minds and side-stepping the occasional teacher. Everywhere they went, there were more elaborate banners, more painting, more tapestries, even sets of fine robes and jewels behind glass. Beau had to keep herself from gawking at the extravagance of it all, instead schooling her expression into one of calm nonchalance. Thankfully, after only a few more minutes of walking, they eventually turned around one last corner, and the girl stopped before a large metal door.

“One moment, please.”

Beau watched her fish around in her pockets and produce a silver key. She slipped it into the lock, turned it, then there were a number of whirring sounds, followed by a series of clicks. Then the door nudged open, faintly creaking as it did.

“Huh,” Beau said. “It wasn’t magic?”

She giggled and tucked the key back away. “It is a common misconception, among non-mages, that magic is used for everything. But why waste the energy to enchant a lock, when a simple mechanical contraption would do?”

“…huh. Yeah, I guess that makes sense.”

“Indeed,” said the girl. “An appreciation of the mundane is important if you want to be a great wizard.”

“Is that something you want?”

The girl smiled. “If I am able, then yes, Expositor.” Then she pushed the door back, revealing a narrow, torchlit stairwell. It descended down into darkness below. “Follow me?”

“Hang on a sec,” Beau said. “I just realized, I don’t even know your name, yet.”

“Ah!” Her cheeks flushed. “My apologies. I am Astrid. An Aspirant.”

“Er…sorry, a what?”

The girl’s face reddened even further. “Forgive me,” she said quickly. “I forget that not all are familiar with our systems. Aspirant is a ranking in the Academy. There are six, in total, reflective of our skills and knowledge. The trimming on our sleeves indicate what we are, such as my emerald.” Then she puffed her chest up and added, “I am very young for my rank. It is a great honor.”

“Ah. Nice. Hey, would you happen to know what blue means, by any chance?”

“Of course.” She managed to look only slightly miffed by Beau’s lack of a reaction. “Sapphire is the level above mine. It marks a Practitioner, one who has earned the right to call themselves a magic-user. I, on the other hand, am still aspiring to that point. Well, according to my teachers, that is.”

“Sure,” Beau nodded. “Good to know. And you said your name was, was Astrid, right?”

“Yes, Expositor.”

“…got a family name?”

 

She hesitated for only a second.

“Not…not one that is worth noting, I should think. The Academy is my family. Now, please, we should continue. I would not want to keep Master Colling waiting.”

“Is ‘master’ a rank too?”

“No, no,” Astrid laughed. “It is simply how we refer to our teachers. Follow me, _bitte_.”

And with that, she entered the stairwell, Beau following closely behind. The narrow stone walls flanking them were smooth and grey, but seemed to darken even further as they descended. Moss crept over the weathered rock, and a strange heavy moisture lingered in the air. Their footsteps echoed in the quiet, and just as Beau was starting to feel more spooked than she’d have liked, they finally reached the bottom of the stairs.

Here was another door, that Astrid gestured to before bowing and nodding to Beau.

“Here you are, Expositor. It was a pleasure meeting you.”

“Yeah, uh…nice to meet you too,” Beau said. “You, uh, Astrid.”

She smiled. “That would be me. Have a nice day.”

And then the girl turned and left, leaving Beau alone at the bottom of this unknown place.

She stood there in silence for a couple, nervous seconds.

Then she ran a hand through her hair. She took a deep breath.

She pushed open the door.

\-----------------------

“This place is really nice,” Jester said, swinging her legs off the side of the windowsill. “I _still_ can’t believe that our stinky wizard went here.”

Caduceus nodded. “He’s a man of hidden depths.”

“He’s also just a _hidden_ man,” Nott grumbled. She was seated on the firbolg’s shoulders, using the high vantage point to scout through groups of students.

“A hidden _boy_ ,” Fjord sighed. “Or preteen, or whatever.”

“Oh my gosh, I can’t _wait_ to see what he looks like!” Jester gushed. “What if he’s ugly? What if he’s all lanky and pale, or what if he’s got a weird teenager face? Oh my gods, do you think he has acne?”

“I’m sure he’s the most _handsome_ boy in this school!” Nott said immediately. “I bet he’s got _all_ the girls hanging off him. Or boys. Or both. Or neither.”

“All of the above,” Caduceus said amicably. “I’ve seen him be charming, before.”

“Really?” Fjord snorted. “Now, when was that? The Caleb I remember likes to slap mud in his face.”

“You were being held captive by slavers. It was during our mission to save you.”

“Oh.” Fjord faltered. “Oh, uh…oh.”

Jester gave him a reassuring pat. “I’m sure if you asked him nicely, he’d be willing to demonstrate for y—"

“Ooh!” Nott suddenly shrieked. “Ooh, ooh, look over there! I think I found him! Is that him? Is he that one?”

They all immediately turned to where she was pointing, at two boys that had walked into view. One had a head of black curls and a dopey grin, was waving his hands around animatedly as he told a story. The other, slightly shorter, had a scarlet mop on his head, bangs brushing over soft blue eyes. His face, though round and rather boyish, looked very, very, _very_ familiar.

“Oh, shit,” said Jester. “I think that _is_ him.”

“He’s got _some_ pimples,” Caduceus shrugged. “But isn’t that normal, on human children?”

Jester blinked. “Is it not on firbolgs?”

“I wonder who that is with him,” Fjord said. “I never would’ve thought Caleb as the social type.”

“I told you,” Nott said smugly. “I _told_ you he’d be popular.”

“That’s only _one_ kid,” Jester scoffed. “That’s not what popular looks like.”

Across the hall, probbaly-Caleb brightened up at the sight of another group of kids. He greeted them warmly, and he and the dark-haired boy immediately joined their circle.

“Nevermind,” Jester said. “Popular it is.”

“Should we…should we go talk to him?” Nott asked. “I mean, _I_ probably shouldn’t be the one who does it, but do you think that one of you guys could?”

Fjord rubbed his chin. “I don’t know,” he said. “We’re kind of a weird-looking bunch, and I think the only reason we’ve made it this far is because we’ve been quiet, and we’re dressed like students. Maybe we should try to get ‘im alone.”

“That’s definitely going to seem normal,” Caduceus nodded. “A group of grown-ups cornering a little boy.”

They all glanced up at him. Nott, still on his shoulders, stared at the back of his head.

“I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not,” Jester admitted eventually. “But yeah, it _would_ be a _little_ weird.”

“More than a little,” Fjord sighed. “But it’s all we’ve got, right? Unless maybe we wait for Beau? Since she’s the only human, now.”

“Ooh, she could pretend she’s interviewing Academy students!” Nott suggested. “Or, maybe, she’s from the government, or something.”

“I mean, she technically is, right?” Caduceus asked.

“Yeah, sure,” said Fjord. “Some…something like that.”

“How long has it been, anyways?” Jester asked. “Five minutes? Ten?”

“I hope she hurries,” Nott muttered. “I don’t like being separated like this.”

“Me neither,” Fjord said gently, “but if anyone can handle themselves alone, it’s her.”

\-----------------------

Beauregard walked into a warmly lit chamber.

Contrary to what she expected from a mysterious hellhole at the bottom of some dark stairs, this room was the absolute epitome of bookish comfort. For one thing, the walls were lined with library shelves, the carpeted floors crammed full of cushioned chairs and squat, plush sofas. There were a few desks to the side, completely covered by parchment and inkwells and quills, calling to mind a scene of benign clutter. A fireplace crackled on gently to the right, and standing just in front of that, was a woman.

She glanced up as Beau entered, wearing a pleasant smile. She was short, had dark, curly hair streaked with grey, and crow’s feet around her eyes. She also wore a set of ivory robes, similar that of the students, but trimmed with gold.

It would have almost been relaxing to see this maternal figure in what felt like a cozy drawing room, if not for the enormous stone pit right beside her.

It dipped too low for Beau to see inside, but from where she stood she could just make out a row of manacles affixed to grey walls. A faint blue shimmer ran across the pit’s opening, sparking for a moment, then fading from view.

The woman seemed completely ambivalent to this. She walked to the entrance to took Beau’s hand.

“You must be the Expositor!” she said cheerfully. “Good afternoon. My name is Petra Colling, I am the one who sent for you?” Without waiting for an answer, she started to drag Beau towards a group of chairs. “I must say, you are much _younger_ than I thought you would be! I was expecting one of your…more experienced colleagues, but no matter. Your arrival is very appreciated, and much faster than I anticipated, especially since I only sent word to the Cobalt Heart this morning.”

Beauregard recovered rather well, all things considered. “Right, well, I was already in the area. Er…remind me again, what the hell do you need me for?”

Master Colling chuckled. “Now, now, I know that our Academy and your…institution have not always been on the _best_ of terms, but please, let us be civil at least. Have a seat. Would you like any tea?”

“Uh…sure, yeah, you got any jasmine?”

“Of course I do. Now sit, dear Expositor! I will prepare your drink. Then I can fill you in.”

Beau sank down into a random, wide sofa. It was _extremely_ comfortable, and reminded her of the sort of chairs that her father would use to get visitors to let their guard down, before swooping in and demanding they sell their souls to his business.

She straightened up and scooted up to the edge of the cushion.

After a few moments, Colling returned from the counter in the corner and took the seat opposite Beau, her gait uneven and, like someone’s old mum. She waved a hand, and a coffee table slid across the floor and landed between them. She placed a tea-tray atop its surface, and the pot began pouring all by itself. The amber liquid left a trail of steam in the air.

“I hope it is to your liking,” Colling said, handing her a cup. “I would like to think that I am rather good at this.”

Beau took a cautious sip. It was perfect.

“I guess it’s fine,” she shrugged. “Now come on, spill. Your words, I mean, not the drink.”

Colling chuckled and gave Beau a smile. “You Cobalt types are always so straight to business, eh? Very well. I called you here because I would like you to speak to an intruder that we found roaming the campus this morning. We have not been able to extract much information from them yet; apparently they are quite adept at resisting magical persuasion. And their pain tolerance is irritatingly high. So, we turn to you experts in interrogation, from our dear sister establishment.”

Beau blinked, and for the second time in a few hours wondered about the theory of conversational whiplash. Then she put her saucer down, and leaned forwards.

“You…you want me to punch the information outta someone?”

Colling rolled her eyes. “A crass phrasing, but it is what you do, is it not? You Expositors do not share much, but we _do_ know that you specialize in extracting secrets. And we believe that this intruder has a great many secrets for you to extract.”

“Oh yeah?” Beau raised an eyebrow. “And why’s that, exactly?”

 

“They appear to be Xhorhastian,” Colling said, and took a sip of her tea. “We think they are a hired mercenary, sent here to stir up chaos in the capital.”

Beau’s other eyebrow shot up. “That’s…a heavy accusation. How could you know that if you can’t get ‘em to talk?”

Colling shrugged. “It is simple to see. Their decoration and markings are reminiscent of the area, and they have a very imposing stature as well. Very threatening. Customary of those mindless warriors.”

“…markings. And…and imposing stature.”

“Indeed.” Colling took another sip. “You seem nervous, Expositor, I hope you are not intimidated! Should I be worried about the reputation of your institution?”

Beau’s eyes narrowed immediately. “Fuck off,” she said. “I’m just…thinking. Do you have the intruder here, right now?”

“I do,” the mage nodded. “Would you like to see them?”

Beau was on her feet in seconds.

“I would.”

“I like your initiative,” Colling chuckled. “Very well, then. She is in the center of the ring.”

She pointed towards the big stone pit, and Beau felt her stomach give a lurch. Very slowly, she started to walk forwards, her chest aching and her lungs full of dread, taking one step, then another, then another and another until she reached the edge, and peered over.

“A real brute, eh?” Colling laughed.

Beau’s entire body went numb.

Manacled to the wall, clothing torn and head low, was the unconscious and battered form of Yasha. Her shoulders rose slowly, indicating that she was still breathing, but even from this distance Beau could see the all-too visible cuts and bruises that now covered Yasha’s pale skin.

She tried to tear her gaze away. She couldn’t.

“Clearly Xhorhastian,” came the distant titter. “A barbarian too, if I guessed correctly.”

Beau’s vision was foggy. There was a haze in her eyes. Something in her mind screamed to turn, screamed to run, dash, lunge for Colling, to wrap her hands around the woman’s throat and _tear_ her to shreds and rip her head off and feed her guts to the rats and flies.

But a different part of her said: _wait._

She took a deep, rattling, agonizingly slow breath.

Very, very carefully, she turned around.

“Yeah,” she nodded curtly, felt her fists clench. “Right. Barbarian.”

Colling was still drinking that fucking tea. “Would you like to begin now, Expositor?”

Beau couldn’t loosen up enough to shake her head, so she just closed her eyes and breathed out. “No,” she said. “No, I’ll…I have something to do, first.”

“Indeed?” Colling leaned forwards. “I was under the impression that you were here for me.”

“I…like I said,” Beau said slowly, “I was in the neighborhood. Attending to…other things. I stopped by just for a quick moment, actually. But…if it’s… _fine_ with you, I would be willing to come back in the evening.”

Colling shrugged, and gave Beau a curt nod. “Very well,” she said. “I was not respecting a response until this evening, as it was. Shall I send for you at the Heart, later?”

“I’ll be back,” Beau said, and this was a promise. “Just a few hours, then I’ll come back to the school. Don’t worry.”

“Certainly.” Colling set her teacup back down onto the table. “Well, then, I will ask Astrid to look for you again in in a few hours. And, if you are not opposed, I should quite like for her to stay and watch you work, Expositor. She is a brilliant girl, I’m thinking of taking her on as an apprentice. This would be a great opportunity for her to learn about the Cobalt Heart, and could even assist me in the vetting process. It would lend me some insight into her mental fortitude.”

“Right,” Beau muttered. “Sure, yeah, mental fortitude, right. She’s…a _kid_ , right?”

“Is there a problem, Expositor?”

Beau’s mouth twitched into a smile. “No problem at all,” she said, though grit teeth. “Will…you be coming too, then?”

“Of course,” Colling gestured to the pit. “This _is_ my intruder, and I would need to lower the barrier for you.”

“The barrier?” Beau echoed, mildly thrown. “Oh, you mean that shining light?”

“It is a specially-modified wall of force,” the mage said with an air of self-satisfaction. “I helped develop it myself, actually. Nothing goes in or out until I dispel it. It was quite an academic accomplishment,” she added.

“Ah,” said Beau, trying keep the red mists from descending. “I see. How wonderful.”

Colling chuckled, and gave Beau a pat on the arm. “Speechless, I see. That is really a composure that suits you. You should try it again, sometimes.”

Beau had to physically restrain herself from grabbing the woman’s fingers and snapping them.

“Thank you,” she managed to seethe, eventually. “I’ll see you later, then.”

“If you have a chance, feel free to explore the Academy,” Colling smiled. “It’s a beautiful school, built for a noble purpose. But please, do not mistake this as an invitation to dawdle,” she added softly. “Your time is valuable, Expositor, of this I am sure. But, on the other hand, you must know that mine is priceless.”

\-----------------------

The gang were in the middle of a heated game of “count-the-red-sleeves” when Caduceus’s ears suddenly gave a twitch. He glanced over to the side and craned his head to get a better look.

“—no, there are fifteen! I just saw one more pass by.”

“That was orange, Jes, clearly orange—”

“No, no, I agree with her, it was red---”

“Hey, guys?” Caduceus raised a hand. “I see Beau coming towards us.”

“Oh, finally,” Fjord began, “I was starting to get worried—”

“Don’t sound so relieved yet,” Caduceus murmured. “She, uh, she looks pretty mad.”

“What?” Jester frowned. “Wait, do you m—”

An absolutely livid expression plowed through the crowd.

Actually, it would be more accurate to say that the crowd broke around Beauregard. Her eyes were narrowed, her teeth practically bared, she _radiated_ anger with the fury of a dying star.

She approached, and the air seemed to shake.

“Uh-oh,” said Nott.

“Maybe she’s hungry,” Jester whispered. “When was the last time we had a meal?”

“The Ermendruds’ house, that first night,” Fjord muttered. “But I dunno, I don’t _feel_ hung—”

Beau had spotted the Nott-on-Cad totem pole. She made a beeline towards them, and raised a stiff hand in greeting.

“Guess what,” she said, as she arrived at their side. She did not sound in the mood for games.

“Um…hi,” Jester said. “Is everything alright?”

Beau smashed her fist into the nearest pillar.

There was a loud, sickening _crunch_ , that came both from her knuckles and from the wide crater now breaking against stone.

“I’m gonna need some healing,” she hissed. “I think I might’ve just broken my hand.”

As Caduceus gingerly reached out with a glowing touch, Fjord turned to stare at her with a mixture of shock, confusion, and awe.

“Why the _hell_ did you _do_ that?” he demanded.

“Because I just found Yasha.” Her fingers trembled, they saw blood—

“Wait ‘til I tell you how.”

\-----------------------

Jester flopped onto the covers. She considered the ceiling. Then she closed her eyes.

“ _Balls_ ,” she said. “And that’s coming from _me_.”

“Yeah,” Caduceus sighed. “And that’s coming from _me_.”

Beau massaged her newly-bandaged hand, wrappings courtesy of a linen bedsheet.

“I think I might hate this dream more,” she sighed. “At least then, Yasha wasn’t in fuckin’ _prison_.”

“I hate to think about what she’s been though,” Fjord muttered. “Gods, I mean, _we_ woke up in a fancy room.”

“At least…at least it’s not _actually_ real?” Nott tried. “Remember, this _is_ a dream, and all.”

“A dream we haven’t figured out how to leave.” Fjord pinched his nose. “Not yet, anyways.”

They had all gone back to his and Cad’s room, were now gathered around one of the beds. Jester, Nott, and Beau occupied the mattress, and Caduceus and Fjord had pulled the chairs over from the desk.

“But, I mean, there’s _got_ to be a way.” Jester turned onto her stomach. “Even if Caleb doesn’t _know_ he’s dreaming, there’s _got_ to be a way to convince him.”

“It didn’t work last time, though,” Nott said. “Last time everything around us just went crazy.”

“He was only a little boy, then,” Caduceus noted. “Maybe it was just overwhelming.”

Fjord raised his head. “Do you think since he’s older, it’ll be easier to explain?”

Jester shrugged. “Maybe? It’s hard to say, everything happened too fast, last time.”

 

“How _did_ that happen, anyways?” Nott scratched her chin. “Did _we_ make the dream shift?”

“I don’t think so,” Caduceus said. “It looked like we just made it fall apart, but nothing changed until his father held him. And then Caleb fell asleep, and _then_ we woke up here.”

“Really?” blinked Fjord. “Damn, I didn’t even notice.”

“Nice eyes,” Nott added.

“Thank you. I didn’t try.”

“Alright, but now what?” Beau intervened before they could get off-topic. “Is his _dad_ the villain, or something? Do we gotta fight him?”

Fjord gave a sigh. “I’m not sure that plan would go well. But also, I don’t see why his dad would be _here_. You know, at Soltryce, or whatever.”

“It wouldn’t fit this setting,” Jester agreed. “But I _will_ say that there was _definitely_ something freaky about them both, last time.”

“See?!” Beau nodded, triumphant. “See, I _knew_ that something was wrong.”

“Is that why you punched his mom?” Nott asked.

“Yeah, and I’ll punch whoever _else_ starts any shit.”

“But why _would_ they even do that to begin with?” Nott scratched her head. “I mean, why did all that crazy stuff _happen_? Why didn’t Caleb remember who we were, and why did his dad try to take him somewhere else?”

This was met by a brief pause, as they all tried to think of an answer.

Eventually, Jester spoke.

“Al…alright,” she said slowly, “ _okay_ , I have an idea. Hear me out, I’m not sure if it’s right.”

“It’s better than nothing,” Fjord gave a not. “Shoot, Jes.”

“We’re all ears,” Beau added.

Jester pulled a pillow into her lap. “It’s…it’s like this, right? We’re in the Plane of Dreams. We’re _inside_ Caleb’s head. So…whatever happens in here, it’s gotta be because Caleb’s thinking about it, right? Subconsciously or not, all of this stuff—” she gestured around, “—all of this is _made_ of his thoughts. And his memories, and his dreams, and his wishes.”

“Right,” Nott said, “but what about the weird parts?”

“Well,” Jester leaned into the pillow. “Well, remember what Fjord said before? That maybe Caleb wasn’t waking up because he just didn’t _want_ to? What if that was true? And if we’re in a world _made_ of desires…”

“It’s manifested,” Beau realized. “It’s controlling the dream, and controlling Caleb, trying to get him to _stay_ asleep.”

“Exactly,” Jester nodded. “It’s come to life. And it’s manipulating the world, to keep Caleb here.”

“So when the world fell apart,” Nott murmured, “it made a new world? And started the dream again?”

“It’s just a thought,” Jester said, “but I think that might be it.”

They lapsed into a contemplative silence. Then Beau groaned, and leaned back.

“Gods, so what does that mean for _us_? How are we supposed to convince Caleb to wake up if everything in his brain is trying to prevent that?”

“We could start shit up again,” Fjord suggested. “We could try to break the world a second time.”

“Right,” Nott muttered, “that went so well in round one.”

“Hey—”

“But it also _hurt_ Caleb,” Jester said. “Remember how baby-Caleb reacted when the world started falling apart? He was in _pain_. I…I don’t want to _hurt_ him, guys.”

“Sometimes you need to hurt a little,” Caduceus said. “It’s only natural.”

“Not if we can avoid it.” Nott looked him square in the eye. “I don’t want to make Caleb _suffer_.”

“Besides,” Beau said, “based on last time, and on whether or not Jes’s theory is true, I’m not _sure_ we could even do that. I mean, what if the dream just changes again? What if someone else from Caleb’s life grabs him and makes him fall asleep? Hell, I think I met Astrid earlier—"

“You _what_?” Jester instantly shot up. “ _Astrid_? Oh my _gods_! What did she look like? How was she dressed? Was she tall and gorgeous? Was she super-hot?”

“She was like…fifteen,” Beau scowled, “so, no. No. But what I was trying to say, was that I think if we made any sort of ruckus, she’d appear and try and stop us, or something.”

“Really?” Nott hummed. “Are you sure about that?”

“Are _you_?” Beau threw wide her hands. “Who the _fuck_ knows what’s going on? But if you ask me, and if you think about how we got here, don’t you think that maybe, it’s possible?”

“That doesn’t leave us with many options,” said Fjord.

“If you ask _me_ , it just means that our best plan is to talk to Caleb,” said Jester. “I mean, maybe that would work, you guys. Maybe if we could remind him of who we were, he’d be willing to listen to us. Maybe he’d go back to normal, and he’d _want_ to wake up, and reunite with his _best_ friends.”

“Aren’t they already in here?” Fjord asked.

Beau rolled her eyes. “She means _us_ , dummy.” Then she turned to Jester, and added, “I guess that’s worth a try,” she said. “But we’d have to do it without anyone else around. Otherwise, they might be, I dunno, mind-controlled by the dream into keeping Caleb away. Or preventing us from trying to get him out.”

“I agree,” Caduceus rumbled. “That sounds like a good plan.”

“ _Plus_ ,” Beau said quickly, “we still need to save Yasha. She’s already been in that pit for long enough.”

“So we have two goals,” Fjord nodded. “Save Yasha, find Caleb and talk to him.”

“Preferably without shattering the universe,” agreed Nott. “Especially since, um…well, I don’t want the world to change again. I’m…I’m kind of worried about where we could end up.”

“What do you mean by that?” Jester asked. “Like a burning pit, or something? That doesn’t seem like the kind of place Caleb’s brain would take him for the happy-times.”

“It doesn’t,” Nott murmured, “but…you never know.” She gave a quick glance to Beau and continued, “There’s some, um…well, you know about Caleb’s past. You remember that he was trained by an _asshole_ , and you remember he was almost an assassin, right?”

“Yeah,” Fjord said, “I recall, but do you really think his brain would pick something like that? I dunno, it seems like the kinda thing you’d avoid.”

“Sure,” Nott shrugged, “if you were a _normal_ kid. But…right now, if Caleb really _is_ just fifteen, that means he hasn’t changed his mind yet. Which means that…right now, that assassin-training stuff is what he _wants_.”

“To rise above the muck, and all that crap,” Beau muttered. “Gods, alright, we can’t let this dream change. I don’t even wanna _touch_ those memories.”

“Then we won’t,” Fjord said, reassuringly. “We’ll get Caleb out here.”

“And how are we going to do that?” Nott asked. “Drag him by the collar?”

Fjord shook his head. “Actually,” he said slowly, “I might actually have a plan…”

\-----------------------

“I am very excited to see you work, Madam Expositor,” as Astrid once again led Beau to the door. “I have always wanted to learn about the Cobalt Soul, and it is just _so_ fascinating how your abilities work. You do not even have a rudimentary understanding of the arcane!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Beau said, trying and failing to be patient. “I just get a lot of Vitamin C.”

“Really?” Astrid raised an eyebrow. “Does that…does that _help_ , or—”

“Hey, look, here we are!” Beau gestured wildly at the hallway from before. “We don’t wanna keep your teacher waiting, right?”

“Oh, no, of course not,” Astrid said quickly. “No, here, just one moment.”

The girl produced a key from the folds of her robe, then unlocked the door and stepped aside for Beau.

“After you, _bitte_.”

Beau gave her an awful smile. “Thanks, kid, but here. Ladies first.”

She let Astrid proceed, and then she followed, swinging the door shut behind her only after hearing a quick-whispered, “ _Thanks_.”

They descended with very little fanfare. There were two sets of footsteps, but it almost sounded like three.

\-----------------------

“Ah, welcome back!” Colling beamed as they entered. “I trust that your other business went well?”

Beau had to stop herself from committing instant murder. There would be time for that later, after all.

“Pretty well,” she said, giving the terrible woman a nod. “Actually, I ran into another one of the teachers. We made conversation for a bit, I told him why I was here and he sounded rather interested.”

“Is that so?” hummed Colling, who herself did not. “How wonderful. Astrid, be a dear, bring me that tome?’

“Yes, Master.”

“He was a real tall guy,” Beau continued. “Really fascinated by all this stuff. He hinted that there was a student _he’d_ been thinking about, who he also thought might benefit from this experience.”

“Really?” Colling raised an eyebrow. “Despite the fact that this is _my_ study? My prisoner, and my task?”

Beau shrugged. “I guess. I just…man, I can’t seem to remember his name.”

“He must not be that important,” Astrid piped up. “Not all of the teachers here are as decorated as Master Colling.”

“Sure seems like it,” Beau nodded. She was really having too much fun, now. “Just…gosh, what _was_ his name? Tr…Trey? No, that wasn’t it. Troy? Tr…Travis…Trellis…Truant…Trent…?”

With that, the temperature in the room suddenly dropped. The warm-dancing torchlight seemed to go pale.

“Tr… _Trent_?” Colling demanded. “You do not mean Master Ikithon, do you?”

Beau snapped her fingers and gave a shit-eating smile. “Ikithon, right!” she declared. “Right, right, that was his last name! He was going on and _on_ , you know, about how impressive it was that you caught this intruder, and about how he _so_ wished his student could see this. I think the kid’s name was Bren, or something—”

Colling whirled around to face Astrid.

“Astrid,” she said, without missing a beat, “are you acquainted with a boy of this name?”

The girl tilted her head with surprise. “I…er, _ja_ , if you are referring to Bren Ermendrud, then I am. We are from the same town, actually.”

“Good,” Colling quickly nodded. “Good, go send for him, _ja_? Tell him that I excuse him from evening classes, and I would like to see him in this office. Go now,” she added, taking on an urgent tone, “go, we have dawdled long enough!”

The girl immediately bobbed her head in understanding. She bolted out the door without another word.

“So,” Beau said in the silence that followed, “what other kinds of tea do you got?”

\-----------------------

Astrid, running through the halls to not keep anyone waiting, suddenly ran headlong into a tall, somewhat-stocky student in Practitioner’s robes.

“ _Entschuldigung_ ,” she muttered, quickly shifting past, “I am s—”

She felt a very large hand clasp her shoulder. She looked up, and her eyes widened in confusion.

“Gods, I’m _real_ sorry, about this,” Fjord apologized. “I mean… _real_ sorry. Even _if_ this isn’t real.”

“ _Was_?” she frowned. “What are you—”

And then every muscle in her body turned to ice. She immediately remembered the basics of her training, she strained to break free with all the willpower she had, but even after a few seconds of struggling, she still couldn’t move. 

“Come on, quick!” Fjord hissed, to someone unseen. “Get her up fast, this spell only lasts a minute!”

“Relax, relax,” said a disembodied voice. “I’m on it, don’t worry.”

Astrid felt more hands gently scoop her up. “Nice to meet you,” said a patch of air. “My name is Caduceus Clay. We’re gonna borrow your keys, and we’re _really_ sorry we have to do this.”

“I feel like a creep,” Fjord muttered as Cad slipped up the stairs. “That was…I know this is a dream, but yikes.”

“Now’s not the time,” came Nott’s voice, but the figure that appeared from behind the pillar was brown-haired. “Anyways, I think I see Caleb. I’m gonna go grab him, now.”

“Good luck,” Fjord nodded. “I’ll head to the door.”

“Oh jeez,” Nott murmured, pulling on her sleeves. “Oh jeez, I hope he won’t try to speak Zemnian.”

\-----------------------

Beau nursed a cup of oolong as she peered over the edge of the pit. Yasha was still asleep, head low, and Beau had to force herself to look away and instead focus on the next step of the plan.

She turned back to Colling, who was now scanning the notebook.

“So, uh,” she said, stepping closer, “since now we’re waiting for the kids, want to fill me in on what to ask?”

Colling flicked her wrist, and a cushioned stool skittered across the floor. Beau elected to remain standing.

“I want confirmation that this woman is in _fact_ a spy,” Colling said, ignoring this mild offense, “and that she is a spy from Xhorhas. I want to know when she was sent. I want to know who helped her across, what her orders were and _how_ she got in the school. I would also like to know about her skills, her training, more about where she came from, really anything that would be of use. Times _are_ getting…difficult,” she added, “the political climate is more tense than ever.”

Beau pushed a “ _and whose fault is that_?” to the back of her tongue. “Got it,” she said instead, gesturing at Yasha. “Hey, maybe we should get started? I know the kids aren’t here yet, but you know. Your time is precious, and all that.”

Colling seemed to consider this a moment. “Well,” she said slowly, “though I agree, I would prefer to wait for them, still.”

“Well, _I_ have all day,” Beau shrugged, “but I’m _sure_ the headmaster wouldn’t want you to dawdle. There _was_ a breach on the Academy, after all. Isn’t that a serious violation? And isn’t Ikithon personally invested in this, now?”

Colling balked. “I-I mean, yes—"

“What was he the Archmage of again? Civil…Civility…”

“Civil Influence,” Colling answered immediately. Then she paused, and seemed to think this through.

She set her notebook onto the table. She strode towards the edge of the pit.

“Just a moment,” she said, rolling up her sleeves. “This is a complicated ritual, you’ll find, but over the years I have modified it so—”

Beau tuned out the rest of that sentence. She was too busy studying Yasha’s face intently, mentally apologizing for taking so long.

And then, Colling raised her hands. Her fingers took on a faint, pink glow. She began to murmur under her breath, syllables and sounds just on the edge of hearing, something lyrical and smooth that painted through the air, wrapped around their cheeks and settled cool against their ears—

After a full minute of this rhythmic lilt and light, the barrier collapsed into a thousand shining pieces that instantly glimmered, then faded from sight.

“There we are, Expositor,” Colling said, turning around. “Now, I hope—”

A set of knuckles slammed into her nose before she could even get another word out. Colling immediately dropped onto the floor, and Beau gave her a swift kick to the ribs, then an elbow to the gut and a heel on collar and her qi flashed once for good measure as she dove in for a final blow to the chest.

Then she leaned back, and examined her work.

She wiped the blood off her hands and pushed Colling’s body into the pit.

“That’s what you get,” she said, under her breath. “That one was for locking up my friend.”

And then Jester stepped out into the light. her invisibility spell shimmering as it came to an end.

“Don’t you think that was overkill?” she asked.

Beau rolled her eyes, and gestured to the body. “Just change into the lady, alright? I don’t wanna be in this stupid place any longer.”

\-----------------------

“You sound different,” Bren said as Astrid stopped in front of the metal door. “Are you feeling alright?”

“ _Ja, ja_ , totally _gut_!” She dug around madly through her pockets.

“Are you sure?” Bren raised an eyebrow. “Asa, you seem a little off.”

“I’ve just got a cold, C—Bren!” she answered shrilly. “There’s nothing wrong, nothing at all.”

“You can talk to me about anything, you know,” and here Caleb actually took on a hopeful tone. “Anything at all. You are, um, I care about you, and—”

She turned the handle and pushed back the door. “Of course, of course, definitely. I will! Now, come on, let’s not keep them waiting!”

Caleb’s crushed expression recovered slightly. “ _Ja_ , _absolut_ ,” he said. Then his smile grew and he added, “I cannot _believe_ we were chosen to witness this! Aspirants only, what an honor!”

“Yeah, right, aspiring,” Astrid said, then practically shoved him through the door. “Anyways, time to go!”

She scurried off behind him, and the door slammed shut.

Two figures emerged from behind the pillar.

“I never want to hear her speak Zemnian again,” Fjord muttered, rubbing his temples. “Do you think Caleb’s in love with her, or something? That’s the _only_ explanation for how that could’ve gone well.”

“I thought that much was obvious,” Caduceus said. “He was trailing after her like a puppy. You know, you really aren’t the most observant fellow.”

Fjord sighed, and pinched his eyes shut.

“Yeah, yeah, I…let’s just follow them, alright? Is the door still unlocked?”

“Nott should’ve left it so. Only one way to know, right?”

\-----------------------

“—almost kind of bad, you know? I mean…it’s almost _mean_ , what we did.”

“She _locked_ Yasha up. She _tortured_ her.”

“Yeah okay, good point. I guess I’m just worried—”

The door creaked open. Beau immediately snapped back to reality and Jester snapped quickly to attention, drawing herself up to her fully disguised height.

And then, Astrid and Bren walked in. Both of the students had their hands behind their backs, posture upright and eyes fixed ahead, though Astrid seemed a little less sure than Bren.

Jester quickly cleared her throat.

“A—ah, yes, welcome, students,” she said, in what Beau realized all too late was a very terrible Zemnian accent. “I am just _so_ glad you could make it. This is…Tracy, she is a Cobalt monk, and I cannot wait for you to see her do this…do this thing.”

Bren’s gaze trailed to Beau.

For _just_ a second, his expression flickered. But then Jester’s voice rang out again, and his discipline seemed ingrained enough that despite his unease, he instinctively turned back to the “teacher.”

“As you can see,” Jester was saying, gesturing grandly to the pit, “I have already dispelled my, uh, my barrier. Would either of you like to guess how I did that?”

Bren’s hand instantly shot up. He barely waited to be called on.

“You used Mordenkainen’s Principle of Opposite Effects,” he said, “taking into account the dynamic fluctuation. Combined with Bigby’s First Arcane Corollary, this would create the necessary interaction that would counteract high-level abjuration.”

Beau almost muttered “ _nerd alert_ ” out loud, but she remembered the setting just in time.

“Yes, yes, _very_ good,” said Jester, who had never before heard of overacting. “I’m very proud of you, C—Bren, and it looks like your teacher taught you very well.”

Bren preened at this. His eyes lit up with pride and satisfaction.

Then Jester turned sternly to Nott.

“Astrid, you did not answer that fast enough,” she scolded. “You still need more studying! You should go up to your room and think about what you’ve done!”

“Wait, what I’ve d—I mean, _yes_ , of _course_ ,” Nott amended quickly. “Right—right away, uh, Miss. Thanks for the…the good learning.”

She spun in a circle, practically bolted for the door.

“See, uh, see you later, friend!” she called. “Tell me how the…how the torture goes.”

Bren and Beau watched her retreat, speechless beyond anything. Jester continued the charade with gusto.

“So, Bren,” she said, snapping his bewildered attention back to her, “before we start, how are you feeling? Are you alright? Are you, uh, are you up for the challenge?”

His expression instantly went serious again. “Of course, _Lehrer,_ ” he said, straightening up. “I am prepared for anything.”

“You sure?” Jester-as-Colling asked. “You’re not squeamish? You’re not afraid?”

“No,” he gave a quick, curt nod. “I am willing to do anything to learn!”

Jester returned this with gentle smile. “You know, you remind me of a friend I had,” she said, then gave Bren a hopeful look. “He was a _very_ smart wizard, _super-duper_ smart, who was always willing to expand his horizons.”

Bren nodded along attentively. Jester tried to make her expression more pointed.

“He also had red hair, actually. And a beard for a bit, but he shaved that. And he was pretty tall, and also Zemnian, he traveled around with us for a long time.”

Bren nodded again, but it seemed as if he definitely did not understand the point of this.

“He had a different name?” Jester tried, at last. “By the time we were together, he was going by…Caleb Widogast.”

Beau and Jester were glued on his expression.

Nothing. Not a flinch. Not even a glimmer of recognition.

“Gods,” Beau sighed, turning around, “this isn’t gonna work, is it? He doesn’t remember _shit_.”

“Beauregard,” Jester chided, “don’t be like that, you don’t—”

“ _Beauregard?!_ ”

They both turned just in time to see Bren scrambling back. He both his fists were balled up in front of his face, his eyes had gone wide and his shoulders drawn in, and he was staring at them Beau with an expression of pure horror.

“You…you’re her!” He shouted. “I _knew_ you felt familiar, I _knew_ it! Beauregard, that name, I…I _know_ that name! You _are_ her! I _knew_ I remembered you! You are the woman who punched my mother!”

Beau barely had a second to say:

“Sh—”

And then the entrance to the chamber exploded.

The door flew from it hinges in a resounding blast, smoke and fire poured in from the stairwell, the wood splintered and the handle skidded across the floor a few feet from Jester’s robe. The metal had been twisted, was hissing from the heat, then all three of them looked up and saw a silhouette in the smog.

Astrid stepped forth.

Her hands were ablaze.

“Get _away_ from him,” she hissed. “All of you, leave him alone! Haven’t you done enough to hurt him?”

“Astrid!” Bren called immediately, “Astrid, what is going o—”

And then two more shapes came through the doorway, one lanky and green, the other tall, covered in fur, they both had weapons raised, one falchion and one staff, they swung down with determination—

—they _missed_ —

Astrid swiftly stepped to the side, waved a hand and suddenly Fjord and Caduceus went flying, were launched across the space of this chamber and landed with a sickening _crunch_ against the wall. Astrid took another step towards them, fingers crackling with terrible blue lightning, but then, before she could do anything else, another figure burst out of the haze and somersaulted past her legs. Nott shot to her feet, crossbow raised, aimed to fire, was about to pull the trigger when—

“Stop!” Bren screamed, and dove in front of Astrid. “Stop, don’t you _dare_ touch her!”

She managed to yank the shot up in time, her bolt wedging itself into the ceiling. “Shit!” Nott yelled, “shit, shit, _shit_!” and then she just threw her crossbow aside, darting back behind Jester and Beau, reaching into her pockets then leaping down into the pit.

Beauregard glanced over at Bren, seemingly wanting to say something. But then she just shook her head, produced her own Thieves’ Tools, and jumped in after Nott.

In the panicked, smoke-filled breath that came next, the fire now raging around the doorframe, spreading to the sides of the tall bookshelves, Fjord and Caduceus picked themselves up. They scrambled to meet Jester, who’d dropped her disguise, and the three of them were now facing off against Bren, arms outstretched and standing before Astrid.

“What do you people _want_?!” he demanded. “What are you _doing_ here? _Why_ are you here?!”

“It’s because of you, Caleb!” Jester was going for broke. The flames licked the walls around them. “You need to wake _up_! You need to come _home_!”

His expression was bewildered, but mostly just murderous.

“ _Was_?! Why should I listen to _you_?! You hurt my mother! You—you are not even my teacher, who… _fuck,_ you are that demon from before! All of you, you are the demons that came to my town!”

“We aren’t demons!” Jester cried back. “We’re just—we’re just people!”

“We’re your friends!” Fjord yelled. The roar of the fire raged ever-louder. Soot was starting to choke this room. “We came to bring you home!”

“I _am_ home!” Bren screamed. “ _This_ is my home!”

“He is staying here,” Astrid added, leaning out from behind his back. “ _This_ is where he wants to be!”

“She was right,” Caduceus murmured. “Guys, I think Beau was right.”

“Are you the demons from Blumenthal?!” Bren took a step closer. “Why were you there?! Why are you here now?!”

“We’re your _friends_!” Jester tried again. “We just want to _help_ you, C—”

“Stop calling me that!” He tightened his fingers into fists. “Stop saying that! Stop _lying_ to me! I don’t know who you are! You hurt my family! You caused me pain!”

Fjord tried to rub the smoke from his eyes. “I know you don’t believe us, but we _are_ your friends. Or— _fuck_ , we _will_ be, soon! We’re—C—Bren, we’re just trying to _help_! This is the past! You’re stuck in a memory! You don’t remember us, but we _know_ you!”

“Liar!” Bren spat, and now he was raising his hands. There was a pulse around his knuckles, a familiar spark, “I _know_ what you are! You are just monsters, you are devils!”

“Wrong!” Beau’s voice shot up from the pit. “We’re your _family,_ idiot, come on, just _remember_!”

Astrid took Bren’s shoulder urgently. “They are not from this world,” she said, “they are _dangerous_.”

“This _isn’t_ the world!” Jester begged, “Caleb, Caleb, _please_ remember! Everything I’m saying is the truth! This place is a dream! This place is in _your_ head! In the real world, you’re older! You’re in your thirties, you’ve got a beard that you shaved, and a pet cat named Frumpkin, and you do a lot of magic and you travel with us! The last time we were on an adventure, we fought a sorcerer who put you to sleep! Does that…does _any_ of that sound familiar?”

“We’re your friends,” Caduceus added.

Fjord raised his palms. “We’re your family, you said so yourself. _You_ even named us, you called us the Mighty Nein!”

For but a second, but a moment, but a _sliver_ of time, amid the falling timbers and ash and smoke, as they stared Bren’s face, intent with desperate hope, from within the depths of those angry, icy eyes, there was a flicker, a glimmer, a _millisecond_ of truth—

And then Nott and Beau emerged from the pit, dragging a bewildered Yasha behind them.

Bren took a step back. He quickly shook his head. “That’s…that’s crazy!” His shoulders trembled. “I am only fourteen, I just…I go to school here, none of that makes sense, nothing you say makes any _sense…_ "

“It’s the truth,” Nott said, trying to step forward, “You’re…you’re my best friend. You’re my _family_ —”

“…but you’re a goblin…”

“And _you’re_ my brother,” Beau said, joining Nott, “well, you mind as well be, at this rate. And that’s Jester—” she pointed, sparks flew behind her arm, “—that’s Fjord, that’s Cad, this is Yasha, we’re a _team_ —"

“She’s Xhorhastian!” Caleb shrieked. “She’s an agent of the enemy! Why do you trust her, Beauregard, she’s on our side—"

He faltered, as if he couldn’t believe his ears. “I mean…wait…I mean…she is…”

His knees started to buckle, but he was caught by Astrid who quickly pulled him behind her back. There was a sickening _groan_ , as the world gave a lurch and the bookshelves bent under cinders and the strain.

“Stop it,” she said urgently, her eyes flashing in the light. “Look at what you are doing to him, look at the _pain_ you are causing.”

“That _we’re_ causing?!” Fjord demanded. “This is _your_ fault! What—what even are you?!”

“I am what he _wants_! I am what he _wishes_!” The flames spun around her frame. “You should not _be_ here! You are _destroying_ this world! Look at what you’ve done already!”

Another one of the shelves, burned beyond saving, splintered and crashed against the stone floor. The heat around them was almost unbearable, the sight of Bren, writing on the ground, clutching his head, almost more so, the Nein exchanged glances, then as one, they closed in—

“Remember us,” Caduceus said, “Caleb, remember! Calm down, give it a shot!”

There were tears now forming at the corners of Bren’s eyes, the rage melting to fear, and bewilderment, and pain, “I don’t know what you’re talking about”! he pleaded. “Please, just leave me alone! Make it stop!”

“Don’t you see what’s wrong?” Beau demanded. “Don’t you remember when the sky burst open? Don’t you remember when your father knocked you out?”

“We were all there,” Yasha murmured, looking around. “It seems…we still are.”

“Stop it,” Bren begged, “please, just go _away,_ I don’t want this anymore—”

Astrid fell to his side, bent over him as the group drew closer.

“What do you want then?” she whispered. The roaring flames almost silenced her words. “Bren, listen to me, hear my voice. What do you want? Where do you want to be?”

“Why does that matter?” he tore at his own hair. “Asa, _bitte,_ what do we do, please—”

“Shhh,” she murmured, and took his hands. “Listen to me, Bren. _You_ are in control. Breathe, breathe, picture in your mind. What do you need? Where do you want to be?”

The Nein closed in, though they seemed uncertain. The fire and the ash all around hid their faces, they coughed in the smoke, then slowly, one reached for Astrid—

“Anywhere but here!” Bren yelled to the world. “Anywhere but here! Take me somewhere else!”

A pair of eyes met his as Fjord pulled Astrid back.

“Good,” she said softly, giving him a nod, “good, now concentrate, what do you need—"

Desperate as the strangers tried to get even closer, Bren shut his eyes, focused _hard_ on the answer:

 _Power_ , he thought. _Power to make them disappear_ —

His shaking body immediately hit the ground.

Within flames, and ash, and choking smoke, Beau’s eyes went wide, she said, “Son of a—”

And then, for the second time that day, the entire world around them went dark. For a moment, they all drifted in a weightless sea, and then in an instant, in an eternity, in no time at all, somewhere new rushed up to meet them.

\-----------------------

“— _bitch_!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jay, are you steering this story? Do you know how you're going to wrap up these plot threads you keep introducing? Is this a coherent and unified narrative that you've thrown into the internet at the mercy of a bunch of wonderful readers?
> 
> No! To all of those questions! But screw that! I'm having so much fun!!
> 
> As always, comments and kudos keep me going! If you've enjoyed this story thus far, please please share it with a friend! I appreciate feedback very very much, and thank you _so much_ for reading this far!!  <333


	7. Whispers of Cold Weather

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we go!! Chapter 7, featuring more things going to shit, the autumn aesthetic, questionable educations, and Caleb-Related Revelations

Nott had just enough time to process a few key details of their new surroundings—elegant paneled walls, low ceilings, another long hallway—before she felt Fjord scoop her up under the armpits like a cat and whisk her away to somewhere around the corner.

“What the _fuck_?” she hissed, but was immediately shushed by the rest of the group. They were all clustered closely together, pressed flush against the wall as if trying to hide in plain sight. Most of them now wore simple linen shirts, though Beau and Yasha had acquired some sort of basic chain mail.

“Where are we?” Nott whispered. “What are these clothes? What’s going on?”

“ _Shhhh_ ,” Yasha said softly, and then pointed to the corridor where Nott had been standing. “Be quiet. Do you hear that?”

She brushed her shoulders off indignantly, then turned around and, indeed, her ears twitched and picked up a sound just on the edge of hearing.

It was a bit higher than it should’ve been, and the accent was heavier than she was used to, but that voice:

“—no, no, more like…something I feel. Not, not that I have actually _noticed_.”

“Something you feel?”

That had been a young woman. Her tone was light, and mildly puzzled.

“So, you do not have actual _proof_ that things are wrong?”

A different man now, words deeper but clumsy, as if he wasn’t quite used to his own register.

“No, Wulf, I do not,” the first voice sighed. “But you believe me, _ja_? It is…I just cannot begin to describe it properly. But I _know_ that something peculiar is going on. And I know that I have felt this way before.”

“I understand,” said the man’s voice, “but I do not think Master Ikithon will believe you.”

“He would not listen to something so vague,” the woman added. “You would do better if you had _real_ evidence.”

“ _Ja, ja,_ I know,” Caleb mumbled, and then there was a rustling, sound, like somebody was standing up. “I think I will still try, and even if Master Ikithon does not listen, just…keep your eyes open, please? I do not want you getting hurt.”

Eodwulf laughed. “Hurt? Please, Caleb, why would we be hurt?”

Footsteps, approaching the door. The Mighty Nein immediately pulled back around their corner and flattened themselves against the wall as best as they could. On her left, Nott saw Caduceus suddenly vanish from view, and rolled her eyes.

Back in the main hallway, a door opened and a young Caleb half-emerged. “I do not know,” he was saying. “It is just…like I said, a strange feeling. I am not so sure why or how I feel it.”

“Perhaps you are just tired from today’s training!” Astrid’s voice called. “You always were a weak one, Caleb!” 

Her words, though harsh, held no trace of malice. Caleb even laughed, and stuck his tongue out. “It takes _quite_ a lot of concentration to channel elemental magic! You would know that, if you were any good.”

There were giggles from the other room, and then Eodwulf’s voice rang out as well. “Come now, come now, let us make peace! What would the Empire do if their most talented mages began warring with one another?”

“I don’t know,” Astrid snorted. “What _would_ it do?”

“It would call our teacher to knock us all over the head,” Caleb grinned. “Now good _night_ , you two. It is almost ten, we should return to our rooms now.”

“Isn’t it freaky how he always knows the time?” Eodwulf asked. There was more rustling, as he stood as well. 

“Quite,” Astrid agreed, “but yes, the freaky one is right. Good night, boys.”

Eodwulf appeared in the doorway, and threw an arm around Caleb’s shoulders. “ _Schlaf gut_ , Astrid!” Then he grimaced. “And enjoy the night while it lasts, too. Tomorrow is more concentration training.”

Caleb groaned. “Gods, you would think we’d have moved on by now, _ja_? I had a _gottsverdamnt knife_ in my arm today, and I was completely fine!”

Astrid giggled. “You weren’t _completely_ fine, you nearly set me on fire! I was almost as upset as Master Trent.”

“Hey, at least you two didn’t break concentration!” Eodwulf countered. “He is going to have my ass tomorrow, I _just_ know it.”

Caleb gave him a pat on the back. “But think of how good you’ll get,” he said kindly. “A year from now, we’ll laugh at how we could barely shrug off an old man and his tiny blades.”

“Do not let _him_ hear you say that,” Eodwulf chuckled. “I happen to be appropriately terrified of him.”

“Agreed!” Astrid called. “Now _go away_! I need to get some rest.”

“ _Ja, ja,_ we are going!”

“Good night!”

Caleb and Eodwulf began heading down the hall, towards where the Nein were hiding. As their footsteps approached, the group looked around in panic, Nott began searching for another door to hide behind and Fjord rummaged through his pockets; Beau had already given up and Yasha was just standing as still as possible with her eyes closed. Any second now, the boys would round the corner and see this motley crew right in front of them, and that could trigger anything from annoying questions, to another fight, to another session of let’s-see-how-much-Caleb-hates-us-today, and then—

—and then suddenly, it was morning. The sounds of footsteps vanished. Light streamed in from open windows, washed over the corridor and settled against the carpeted floors. They could hear, from somewhere faintly off in the distance, the sound of birds chirping.

“What the _shit_?!”

Beau had thrown her hands up into the air, and spun in an angry, confused circle.

“Yeah,” Fjord murmured, “I feel that way too, but could you please keep it down? Just in case.”

Beau shot him a glare, and lowered her voice begrudgingly. “Sure, yeah, fine.”

“What just happened?” Nott asked. “Was that…it was _just_ night-time a second ago, right?”

“It sure was,” Caduceus nodded. 

“Jester?” Fjord tried, turning towards her. “Wanna take a guess at what just—”

And then they were all standing outside. 

Sunlight filtered in through the thick canopy of autumn forest above them. The ground below was hidden, covered completely by brilliant orange and scarlet leaves, hints of gold and brown scattered about. To their left was a slow-running stream, and the air around them, though still comfortable, held the waiting whispers of cold weather on its way. 

Their clothing had changed again as well—now they were all dressed in the simple leathers and furs of hunters, or battle-ready travelers.

And after their initial moment of shock, Beau sat down on the forest floor and put her head in her hands.

“I’m done,” she said. “This is stupid.”

Fjord pinched the bridge of his nose. “Jester? Please tell me this is normal.”

“Ehmm…”

“Dangit, Jes.”

She pouted. “I’m sorry, alright?! I’m not an expert at this stuff! I just _brought_ us here. I don’t know about every single thing that’s going _on_.”

Fjord held his palms up apologetically. “Sorry, sorry,” he said. “I know, I didn’t expect you to know, I…sorry.”

She waved a hand, gave him a weary smile. “Don’t worry about it.”

He nodded, then spoke again. “Is this place…wherever we are, do we think it’s safe?”

Caduceus took point. He looked around, tilted his head slowly, and examined the area around them.

“Seems alright,” he said. “The wildlife sounds at peace, there aren’t any disturbances nearby.”

Nott leaned back. “I will never understand how you can just _do_ that,” she said. “Is this how you live your life always?”

He shrugged. “It’s a knack.”

“Okay, okay,” Fjord said, re-focusing the conversation, “if we’ve got a minute, then I think we really should all just…just sit down and regroup. See if we can figure out what the _hell_ is going on now.”

“That would help,” Yasha said quietly. “I was missing for some of the last dream, I think.”

“Oh, shit, yeah,” Beau said, eyes widening. “I totally forgot, are you…good?”

Yasha shrugged. “It was quiet. I was asleep.”

Jester and Fjord looked like they wanted to say more, but at her continued silence, they gave up. All of them sat down.

“We’re still in Caleb’s brain,” Jester volunteered. “Just now, we heard him talking to his friends, and then the world changed and then the world changed again.”

“Who _were_ those people?” Caduceus asked. “Do we know them?”

Beau and Nott exchanged glances. Nott went.

“They’re his old school friends,” she supplied. “Um…the girl is the one that we met earlier, Astrid. And the other one, well, Caleb didn’t really talk about him much to us, but his name is Eodwulf. They’re all from the same town.”

“We think Caleb had a crush on Astrid,” Jester added. “He said her name when we were dancing, once.”

“Do you think they’ll try and get in the way if we run after Caleb?” Fjord asked. “Like…like that other guy did, and anyways, who was _that_?”

“He looked familiar,” Yasha nodded. “I feel as though I have met him before.”

Beau’s eyes narrowed. “That was _Trent._ Ikithon, or whatever. We met ‘im at the Victory Pit, remember? He was Caleb’s old teacher.”

“He’s a _teacher_?” Jester exclaimed. “But…but did you hear the, the part where Caleb said the thing about knives and _stabbing_? Was anybody else bothered by that? And by how…weirdly okay with it he sounded?”

“No, I heard it,” Nott answered. “It was super-duper bothering.”

“I did not think it was so odd,” Yasha shrugged, and they all took a second to just stare at her incredulously.

“One day we’re going to talk about what you just said,” Beau sighed eventually. “But today is probably not that day.”

“Scary insights into Yasha’s past aside,” Fjord nodded, “I’m more worried about why the world changed so suddenly, right after. We had way more time to run around in the last two dreams. This time, we didn’t even get a chance to see Caleb.”

“That was probably good though, right?” Caduceus asked. “Otherwise he might’ve seen us, and been upset at us again.”

“But if things change too fast for us to adjust, it could make our jobs harder,” Nott countered. “What if we can’t find him?”

“Mmm, I’m not sure if _that’ll_ be a problem,” Jester said. “Remember, these dreams all center around Caleb. I’m sure he’s around here somewhere.”

“Do you think he _realizes_ how strangely the world is acting?” Yasha asked. “How there were…you know, holes in the sky and people suddenly appearing and disappearing and how time and, time and space make no sense?”

“Maybe?” Jester tried. “But sometimes in _my_ dreams, weird things happen all the time, and I don’t even notice until I wake up.”

“So you’re saying that he could think that this is all ordinary,” Fjord supplied.

“Exactly.”

He rubbed the sides of his head. “That’ll make things harder, especially if we keep trying the ‘make him realize there’s something wrong’ tactic.”

“He also sort of hates us,” Beau added. “Which might make him less inclined to listen.”

“Yeah,” Nott chimed in, “but that’s only because you keep punching all the important people in his life.”

“Hey, fuck you! They were being _dicks_.”

“They were kind of spooky,” Jester said. “And one of them was going to torture Yasha.”

“Thank you for punching that one, by the way,” Yasha nodded to Beau. “It was a…a very good punching.”

“Anytime.”

“So...” Fjord said, ignoring that exchange, “this means we’re back at square one.”

“I don’t think we ever left,” Nott mumbled.

“Gods,” Beau sighed, and flopped down onto her back. “Does this mean we’re gonna force him into the bad memories to wake him up, now?”

“I know it sucks,” Fjord said softly, “but it’s all we’ve _got_.”

“It is good to confront your past,” Caduceus added, “The first step to overcoming your demons, is to face them.”

“Yeah, fine,” Beau grumbled, “but these aren’t _my_ demons. They’re _his_.”

“So maybe we should overcome his demons _for_ him,” Caduceus suggested. 

The wind blew though the leaves and gently ruffled their hair as they all considered this for a moment. 

Beau raised a finger. “Are…are you suggesting that we should _resolve_ his internal brain fuckery?” she asked. 

“Maybe,” Caduceus shrugged. “It was just an idea. I mean, my dreams are usually guiding me towards something. And so far, we’ve just been moving through Caleb’s memories in chronological order. Maybe he’s being guided towards something…something important in his past? Are there any, I don’t know, any big milestones in the Caleb Story?”

Beau snorted so hard she almost choked. As she took a few seconds to recover, Nott jumped in. “There are,” she said. “Some pretty important ones. But, uh…like we said before, those are the ones that we should _really_ try to avoid.”

“But…” Fjord said slowly, “but what if we _didn’t_ avoid them? But instead of usin’ them to scare or shock Caleb awake, we help him get through ‘em, and earn his trust? Then maybe he’d just listen to us, and we could tell him to come back home.”

“That seems…a little manipulative,” Nott said hesitantly.

“And it would mean he’d still have to get hurt,” Jester protested. “He would still have to _face_ that moment.”

“Right,” Fjord agreed, “but we’d have his back. We’d help him get through it, whatever it is, to let _him_ get better, and at the same time give _us_ a window to convince him outta here.”

“It might also just end the dream at that,” Caduceus said. “If Caleb feels like his work in the mental world is done, then maybe he’d be willing to come back to ours.”

Beau rubbed her chin. “I…uh…I do kind of like the idea of being able to punch Caleb’s brain problems away,” she said slowly.

Yasha nodded. “I do not…entirely follow what is happening,” she admitted, “but I agree with doing something to help him.”

“As long as we’re _really_ helping,” Jester said sternly. “Really and actually helping.”

“And as long as it doesn’t get too bad,” Nott added.

“I don’t think I can _guarantee_ that,” Fjord said weakly, “but I mean…it might be the best option?”

There was a pause, and then a chorus of semi-reluctant agreement.

Beau scratched her elbow, and sighed. “ _Then_ the question is how to force him to dream about the shitty stuff. And how we’re supposed to get close enough to help him since, right, since Caleb hates us for some reason that is completely unrelated to my fists.”

“And speaking of that,” Caduceus said, “for, uh, for those of us who don’t really know Caleb’s history, could we maybe go over what we might be expecting? And, uh…how bad it might be?”

Beau and Nott exchanged glances. 

“You wanna do it?” Beau asked. “You know him best.”

Nott grimaced, and turned towards the others. “It’s…uh…it’s a long story,” she said. “And sort of complicated, and it kind of ties into the whole ‘crazy stabbing teacher’ thing from before.”

“It’s probably a violation of privacy,” Fjord sighed, “but I think we might need to hear it all.”

She nodded. “You probably do. Okay, so, it started at the Academy, where he and two other kids got picked by Ikithon to be private students…”

\--------------------------------------------------

“It is amazing that we were even allowed to come out today,” Caleb murmured as they hiked around a fallen log. “I thought for _sure_ that Master Ikithon would tell me I was being ridiculous.”

“He probably figured that you would be useless in lessons if you were so distracted,” Eodwulf quipped, and kicked a pebble across the fallen leaves. 

“Thank the gods we’re here instead then,” Astrid laughed. “Otherwise I think I’d get singed again, today.”

“How many times must I apologize to you?” Caleb groaned. “I _said_ that I was sorry, and I promised I’d never do it again, _ja_?”

“ _Ja_ , but it is so fun to tease you.”

Caleb made a face at her, and then tripped over an exposed tree root. Both of his friends considered leaving him there to spit the dirt out by himself, but after a few seconds, Eodwulf grinned and reached out a hand, helping Caleb to his feet. “What happened to the boy that used to run around through the woods?” he asked jokingly. “Have you always been so clumsy?”

“I’ve spent too long in my ivory tower,” Caleb snorted, and brushed his trousers off. “I think it suits me better, anyways. There are no books in these forests.”

“No books,” Astrid agreed, “but I think there might be something else. Do you hear that?”

Both boys quieted down and listened carefully. 

“I don’t hear anything,” Caleb whispered. “What—”

“ _Shhhh_!” Eodwulf shot back. “ _Ja_ , I do!”

Astrid’s nodded slowly. “There are voices, Caleb. Coming from…the west, I think. There are people in the woods!”

His eyes went wide. But not from fear, or surprise, or shock. 

“Do you think they have anything to do with the strange feeling I’ve been having?” he asked, voice rising with excitement. “Do you think they know anything?”

Astrid nodded. “I bet so. And even if they do not, I am _sure_ Master Ikithon would love to meet these trespassers.”

“Thank the gods for that too,” Eodwulf sighed. “We might get a break from concentration training, if we bring them back.”

“In that case, what are we waiting for?” Astrid whispered. “Let’s get them! Same bet as always? Whoever takes out the least has to pay for drinks?”

“Oh, you’re on,” Caleb grinned. “I hope you’ve been saving up, because there is no way I will lose this time. Wulf, are you—”

He turned to his left, just in time to see Eodwulf waggle his fingers cheekily and vanish from view.

“Keep up, losers!” came the disembodied retort. “I plan on getting _wasted_.”

“Oh, I’ll waste you alright,” Astrid laughed, “Just you wait!”

Caleb shoved a fist into his pocket and yanked out a handful of licorice shavings. “You’ll have to keep up with _me_!” he declared. “See you all when I’ve won!” 

And then he threw the shavings up into the air, muttered a few words, and bolted in a flash of red and brown.

\--------------------------------------------------

“…but it wasn’t his fault,” Beau finished. There was a hard edge to her tone, of a profound and icy anger. “It _wasn’t_.”

“Caleb just doesn’t believe that,” Nott murmured. “He thinks it was all on him.”

The rest of the group sat there in silence, trying to process what they had just heard. Fjord stared at the backs of his hands, and Caduceus looked somewhere off into the distance. Jester turned her gaze distractedly to a crumpled maple leaf on the ground. Yasha picked a feather off her shawl, and sighed.

“I would not have guessed,” she said eventually, shattering the pensive quiet. “Not ever.”

“It explains a lot,” Fjord agreed slowly. “His whole thing with…fire, and all that.”

“And why he’s…like how he is,” Caduceus added. 

Jester bit her lip. She looked up, and there were tears in her eyes. “But I can’t…I can’t even imagine something so… _terrible_ ,” she whispered.

“He didn’t do it,” Nott reminded them immediately. “I mean, he did do it, but he was _brainwashed_!”

“Yeah,” Fjord said gently, “yeah, I gotcha.”

Jester sniffled. “I know, I know, it’s just…if I _knew_ that all those things had happened, I never would have made fun of him for being so stinky that first time. And I never would have talked about fireballs so much, and I never would have bragged about how rich my momma was, or how much she loved me, or—”

Beau reached out, and wordlessly put her arm around Jester.

“Damn,” said Fjord. “Just… _fuck_.”

“ _That’s_ why we were so worried about what might happen in the dreams,” Nott said. “That’s the thing we didn’t want him to have to go through.”

“We _can’t_ make him live through that again!” Jester said. “No way.”

“But…we would _not_ be,” Yasha reminded her. “If this goes right, then we would be saving his parents, just in time.”

“It’s just…it’s a little more tricky now,” Fjord sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I thought it was…I dunno, I thought we’d have to prevent a buildin’ from burning down, or something. But if y’all are right, then it’s not just about stopping a disaster, it’s also about stoppin’ _Caleb_. He _wanted_ to…to do what he did. If we interfere, then things could get nasty.”

“I could try healing him,” Jester volunteered. “I could try getting rid of that memory, or something.”

“But the cleric who fixed him in the real world got hit with some kinda nasty spell backlash,” Beau said. “I don’t want that happenin’ to you.”

“So what, then?” Jester asked. “How are we supposed to convince him that his parents are innocent?”

“I’m also a cleric,” Caduceus rumbled. “If you get hurt, I could heal you.”

Jester blinked, and so did the rest of the group. They took a moment to consider this proposal and weigh their other options.

And in that moment, as they did, the entire world went blinding white. An explosion of flame detonated right in the center of their little circle, sending charred earth and burning leaves and clouds of ash careening through the air. 

“If you are all going to stand so close together, you will make my job all too easy!”

A sixteen-year-old-boy stood at the edge of the clearing, atop a large boulder. His bright red hair had been swept back by impact of the blast, and his long brown coat fluttered in the breeze. His eyes were blue, and sparkled with delight.

“ _Hallo_!” He called cheerfully. Then he smeared something dark across his palm, raised his hands, and called forth another blast of raging fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ROOOOOOLLLL INITIATIVE!!
> 
> Thanks for reading you guys!! As always, Comments and Kudos, keep me going, and if you ever want to talk, or shout at me about critical role, hit me up [@sockablock](https://www.sockablock.tumblr.com) on Tumblr! All my drabbles and such are on that page too, if you so need something to hold yourself over between updates!!
> 
> <33333
> 
> (also god, what about that last episode, huh? THEY'RE PIRATES NOW I GUESS?)


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